Until She's Crowned
by MyRosesandTea
Summary: Aurora Rose always loved the way she lived in simplicity and calm. That was until she discovers she is the thought to be dead, Princess Aurora, heir to the Moreisian throne. Now, she has to discover what it truly means to be a Princess, with the help of her Godmother, Queen Mallory, and her servant, Diaval. Rated T for themes and other triggering material.
1. Chapter 1- Prologue

**Hello my dears! This will be a story inspired by the Princess Diaries Films, so that should be fun. I own nothing of course, except the writing itself, so I hope you enjoy. Also majority of this was rewritten, not to scare you!**

**I actually want to add a trigger warning that wasn't here before, because I want everyone to be aware that in the course of this story, I will be mentioning, and even writing heavy topics such as domestic and sexual violence, death and such. I just wanted to let you guys know without stumbling across anything that may upset you.**

**But thank you for taking interest in this story, I really appreciate your thoughts. So, shall we move ahead?**

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March 20th, 1998

Moreise

Fireworks exploded across the sky, cries from all directions, "Hail to the King! Hail to the Queen," filled the air at their loudest, passing along their drinking songs. The sun was blaring it's last ray of sun, until dawn came, rising to the occasion, marking the nation's independence day, and the birth of an heir.

A castle was atop a hill, inside, their Queen had just given birth.

Queen Leila struggled in catching a breath, her shivered coughs were blocked behind an arm. She felt the streaks of sweat, but looked down at her newborn baby girl.

She felt the sweat glistening on her body, but ignored the tears. Just sweat, she would say, but trails had already been made down her cheeks. Just smile, she offered her child one, tried making everything okay, but she coughed again. On instinct, they were covered with an arm, afraid of exposing her daughter to anything of her terrible sickness.

Sickness she said, no infection, no disease, but a sickness she picked up, but her doctors feared worse.

The door swung open. From the shadows stepped out a figure that hovered behind a cane. Painted cherry lips, a wicked smile was spread across. Her darkly lit features were meek in comparison, but there was no doubt she was dangerous. "Ah!" She mockingly cooed. She only had given a second's glance at Leila's daughter. "I see you have given birth to the little beast!" The woman, this princess, retorted in a cruel delight. "I know you were going to make a mistakes in your years as Queen, but never did I imagine this early!" She chuckled grimly.

Leila could only cry as a defense, too weak to hold up a trembling hand with a "No." Queen or not Queen, her sister didn't care. She moved on to ridicule Leila, declared "Long live the Queen!" with a twirl of a finger that wore a glittering ring.

Leila's honey locks shifted, as she looked down, her hair was spooled in her child's blanket, bloodied, somewhat, but she was brought into this world crying. Healthy apparently, but was held to a nap.

Her doctors, midwives she'd trusted dearly were off to find her husband, boast about the baby, the best news Moreise would have.

And that's it. An heir with precious golden hair twisted into a curl and sapphire eyes like crystals. Such an old fashioned state, locking daughters to marriage, children they would raise, a child Stefan and Leila would ideally raise, only for her to be gone for the next kingdom.

But it wasn't Leila's ideals. Midwives were celebrating proudly, and everyone would just stand by while her daughter would have a lifetime pass. It wasn't, shouldn't be something her daughter, Aurora, should experience. Especially without a mother to guide her.

Leila had her coughing fits, afraid of her child being infected. But she had to burn all dreams of a future, feeling an iron taste in her mouth. No more balls, no more dancing, never seeing Aurora's first smile, her first step, first word.

It looked like a bloody murder scene.

She felt blood spilling from her insides, her womb, all drenching the blankets. A rose was blooming, was the prettiest thing. She wanted something good, so maybe they were petals, but her body ached.

"Mallory," she managed to choke out, in her broken tone. And maybe her words did shatter her, and cut her throat. But she wanted to keep being alive. Maybe she was praying to God, please dear lord, let me live another day. She wanted to still hang on the tightrope.

Mallory couldn't hear her prayers, but she heard her voice, which was enough. She was still alive. The brunette steadied her gaze on the blonde, her green eyes were warming, she still saw color.

"Please get my daughter out of here," she commanded in whimpering emotion, guaranteed that she could still feel.

Mallory's eyebrows furrowed, in midst of confusion, she asked "What?" In that strict tone of hers. But granted, Leila was one to ask for the random. But in her heart she desired for her and her daughter to be in safe haven.

She couldn't feel Mallory's voice almost cracking into laughter, or her confusion.

Leila continued groaning, clutching her child into a hug. She was cold, she felt it from a distance. Her throat was feeling like a fire, straining. "Stefan...he can't, he can't be a father." She wanted to explain more, but her mind was now in constant headache, sleep didn't feel so far away now.

The cold beauty rolled her eyes. "Of course not, he doesn't have the mental capacity to do so."

Leila's fallen face cautiously perked up. "Tell me," she begged softly, wanting to reach out to Mallory. "Whatever happened between you two?" Her voice was a fading tone, yearning for an answer. Maybe she was dying, her teardrops on her child that she held close.

Stefan wasn't even at her side.

But her sister was. The princess leaned to Leila's side, and whispered. "He took everything from me." She whispered like it was a secret no one should hear. Except a dying sibling.

Leila stared at her. A small blaze was there, burning green fire, gold dusted ashes sprinkled. Her green eyes. Mallory. Stefan. It made sense now, Mallory looking away, Stefan having this guilty longed look. How she would run off without navigation. Hurt herself by taking light steps. How he convinced Leila to trust in him, stand against her sister's threats so willingly.

But now there was Aurora. Fights would break her pure heart. Arguments on end. And no mother who just couldn't take her time.

"Please, please, I'm begging you. Don't let her grow up like this." She pleaded with her limited will. "You're her Godmother!" Please allow her the best life.

Mallory's eyes were carefully trained on the infant, sleeping soundly midst of the world falling around her. "And why should I care?" She defended. "You're the one who made a mistake. You're the one who brought this thing here!" Testing the volume of her voice, wanting to fight back, but tears were made.

Leila couldn't take the yelling. Not anymore, not with the blood, not with Aurora sleeping. The doctors would come for her. Stefan may or may not pass through the doors. Her head was hurting, and she wanted to sleep, but not into death. Not yet, but soon. The voices echoed, Mallory's threats were the loudest amongst them, sixteenth birthday, one would say, as a drugged sleep would follow. They were stabbing her.

"Stop...stop…" she tried through her last breaths. She felt useless, feeling life leave her.

Mallory pierced her gaze on Leila as she cried. Maybe praying, but she weren't the sort. "You're the one who let herself be fooled by her council, by her husband. When all you wanted was a child, they wanted an heir!"

"Mallory, please I'm begging you...stop…

Please as my dying wish to you. I want you to protect Aurora.

I named you her Godmother."

The princess snapped. "I know that already!"

Leila's breaths were slowing, her chest rising up and down, her shaking hands grasping her baby. She was dying. Sweat glazed her flushed skin, going pale. Going cold.

Mallory looked away for just seconds, until she looked confident. Her glittering finger traced her bottom lip in final thought. She shifted a bit. Forward a few more steps, weak ones. Then, reluctantly she took the baby. Aurora was now gone from her life, Leila was gone.

The Queen panicked. No she just can't leave, she shouldn't accept this, her heart was way too strong. But even the strongest fall.

"Wait!" She called. Her voice was probably loud, but she only heard a whisper. She didn't want to do this. She just couldn't. Not when her tears had fallen, not after she fought back. She wouldn't cough. She didn't want to. "I want to see my daughter first."

Mallory limped. She was carrying Aurora like a fragile thing, kept her away, like she would break her. She was again at Leila's side, dropping to the floor in wincing pain.

Aurora was rocked shakily into her mother's arms. And Leila saw her face. Such a precious one. She tried beaming. Everything was okay, you'll be safe, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to sing. Anything to make this pain go away. Her smile was interrupted by tears but she no longer cared. "My precious Aurora." She hiccuped. Her flower, her rose, her darling child. Her world. "Goodbye." And that's all. She would explode. She would die. But that was all.

There was a gentle kiss on her forehead, tears stained her kiss, but she was able to see once more. Her baby was passed on, Leila coughed. Alarmed of course, Mallory was coughed on. Her sister, her best friend would be the last face she sees.

She wished she thanked her. She wished for too much now. But seeing her daughter carried away made it enough. But Aurora wouldn't recognize her mother's voice. Nor her face. Nothing would be remembered.

Leila would die as Leila, not a Queen, and perhaps alone. She slowly closed her eyes, hearing the fireworks. All the cheerfulness. A welcoming sign that would leave her behind. She was only sleeping.

Only sleeping. And she drifted off. Slowly, until there was nothing, no dreams or thoughts. Just a light.

Her heart stopped. And a single glittering ring hung from a silver chain, no longer beat with her.

* * *

Mallory pushed her way through the door. No hospital would Leila die in, but her own bed. Stefan's bed. Their bed. And she wanted to cry, she wanted to fall in silence, just fall. But she was too exposed, on a mission.

Aurora would wake up, then cry. Everyone would hear. Everyone would know. Then what? Throw Mallory out? They couldn't even get to their Queen, they don't know she's dying.

Mallory pressed her fingers together. It was enough to cover her sorrow, enough to wake her up, she had to leave. But where? How? She's never gone out farther than the forest, Diaval's apartment. The city. But that would be too easy.

And she couldn't hide. She couldn't coward to these men, these people that work hard to see her fall. She had to stand up, protect. Aurora or the country? She didn't know.

Perhaps she was afraid. She's scared.

A dark figure was sulking by. Black boots to match his hair. Diaval, her servant. He looked up from his state of mind. He was calm. Too calm for what happened several feet ahead.

But he looked at Mallory in deep concern. "What happened?" Was the obvious question. She walked away, he followed to a corner, hearing Leila's doctors. Stefan was behind them. They opened the door, and there were mortified gasps.

Mallory died along, feeling faint. She felt tired. She felt sad. She just couldn't.

"Mistress, what happened?" He asked gently.

They were out of sight. Fireworks were still displayed as the sky was blue with cotton clouds covering it. They were still merry. They were still hopeful.

Diaval looked at the direction behind him, hearing their strangling cries, rejecting it, Aurora, where was she? He looked down at her arms, Mallory was holding a baby. The sunshine that glowed up Leila's face during her pregnancy.

He was saying something, trying to, but Mallory didn't let him.

"I need your help."

He waited on her. It wasn't a question, she was commanding it, through her vulnerability. Her eyes no longer burned, rimmed red, she'd been crying.

"I need your help." He repeated in his mind.

"Aurora, we need to get away. Find those three." The trio she was directing attention to was the Queen's ladies in waiting. "Find them." Please. "They'll need their passports. Whatever they can pack right now, clothes, money." Go.

He left her. Should've had him carry Aurora with him. She trembled. It was going to be fine. Everything. She just needed a few things, looking down at Aurora's flushed face, one of a newborn babe.

Hold her tight. Protect her. She just needed to protect her.

In her corner, she saw a few servants, assistants waiting for something good. The princess was missing. Gone from her dead mother. Her dead sister.

Her dead sister who married to someone miserable, who took away all opportunities from her, from Mallory. In her arms was Stefan's child, his product of so called love. And she hated herself for carrying it, holding on it tight, but it wasn't just Stefan's. Overall, Aurora was Leila's child.

But Stefan gave his love to Leila. He choose Leila. She wanted him to suffer. To know she was giving away his daughter. Let him regret her. Let him die with her.

Seeing opportunity, she limped away. Faster. Run. You can still run. She stumbled into a dash, her tears were running down, mascara was running down, she tried blinking away the burning feeling, she shouldn't cry. She can't.

It's a nursery where she stops. Aurora's crib was in one corner, dangling down was a unicorn and other golden figures. But there was many books. Fairytales, songbooks. A dollhouse she imagined would be for her later years, and a blanket hung on a rocking chair.

She's seen Leila on it. Rocking, humming to one of those songs from the nursery rhymes. Touching her stomach like she was embracing her growing baby. She could've been the same thing.

Mallory set Aurora in her crib.

On instinct, she reached for the blanket. Something no one would notice was taken. White with a silvery pattern. It was best to wrap her in something more cleaner. Something without blood stains from her mother.

There was a suitcase, tiny, a whimsical feel about a toddler going off to adventures. At random, she threw clothes in there, that songbook, diapers. Anything that would keep a child alive.

She had to leave. Aurora had to. Just before she cried.

Diaval sat by the bank. Flora, Fauna, and Mary demanded answers to questions he couldn't answer. Suitcases were packed, their eyes were tired, waiting for the baby. They must have not heard.

"What is going on?"

"Diaval, if this is another prank…"

"We need to attend Leila. Right now. She's giving birth."

They were arguing with him, their voices were loud, swirling in his head. But he continued looking towards the stream. The first day of Spring, and it didn't come so merrily. It was still a bit cold, but the sun was shining, and all the birds were carrying this tune. A mourning song, he realized. They just entered mourning. There weren't fireworks, or anything anymore. Everything was grey.

He watched his Mistress, rushing, stumbling on her feet, but she still holding on to Aurora, holding on to her like she had nothing else with a suitcase and cane dragging behind her.

Her look was more intensified, she looked all business. "Diaval. Ladies." But she meant rabble. "I'm pleased with your participation."

They all glanced at each other. "Participation in what?" Flora, the oldest in a red suit asked, clearly disgusted, but looking down at her arms. A baby.

Diaval decided to step away, but Mallory only shot him an accusing face, Her eyes were staring at him, she was playing. "You didn't tell them?" She said in a false sense. "Well. My sister gave birth. But she didn't. She didn't survive."

She left out all the gory details, caught herself before she heard her voice tear apart. Diaval heard it, but the three sisters almost fainted. "What? She didn't? She didn't, she didn't survive?" Flora struggled, Fauna immediately buried her face in her hands, Mary stood still, mortified like the others, just couldn't respond, couldn't find a way to say anything.

"And the baby?" Fauna asked in a small voice. The baby who won't grow up with her mother.

Diaval couldn't look at them anymore, not when everything seemed so delicate. Mallory was stiff, but earlier, he saw she was hurt as well. A few cars were off in the distant, and he wondered when it would become national news, when they would too listen to their podcasts and radios, and everyone would scream death.

He looked at the calm water, the grey skies, how it would probably start raining. He didn't know what Mallory was up to, he didn't know what was in her mindset. But out there in the fields away from the castle, suitcases packed, he just knew they were going to leave.

His Mistress explained to them shallowly, a last wish, how Leila died. Despite how she argued with them or cut them off, she cared. They've raised her, they were her only mothers when her own died.

They were calling a cab, he realized. They were the only people she would trust. They stepped inside, Mallory gave them a package of money, savings that would go into Aurora's well-being.

Suitcases were pulled, and they were going to leave. They've agreed to be part of this scheme, whatever they had to do for Leila. Their poor charge, their daughter. Where would they go?

Maybe Diaval wanted to cry as well. Leila was kind, loyal, graceful. Motherly. His friend. His Mistress was probably thinking similarly, as they stood by, hiding their faces, in silence. After the cab pulled away from the curb, she started speaking again. He didn't catch what her first sentence was, but she repeated herself.

"Go."

Diaval turned, shocked. "What?" He inquired, seeing no expression or care in her features.

"Go." She repeated once more, though this time she was louder. "Find out where they will live, and report back to me." She continued staring at the streets, where they were left.

She wasn't kidding he realized. She actually wanted him to leave. And he always obeyed order, everything, it was in his instinct. He wasn't going to stop now.

He bowed politely, and chased the vehicle, trying to find his own ride to the airport. Wherever he was going.

It started raining.

Mallory watched as he faded from her sight, and there wasn't any need to worry. She's done it. She's protected Aurora. She's done it all.

She caught herself staring at Diaval a bit too long. But she decided it was something that had to be done. It will be a while until she saw him again.

* * *

Aurora was in Fauna's arms, crying loudly.

The young woman tried lulling her, rocked her gently.

"Don't worry Aurora," She wiped a tear away. "We got you."

The crying worsened after.

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**Again, this chapter has been revised, not only to improve the quality, but the literal emotions and story.**

**If you guys want me to add any elements or scenarios, please let me know, I appreciate all types of feedback.**

**But thanks guys!**


	2. Chapter 2- Prologue ll

**Hello and welcome again, faithful readers!**

**I just quickly want to get it straight that various other Disney characters will appear in this, just to get it clear.**

**And this is also set in modern time, since I wanted the time period to match the PD, and I have this really weird obsession with royalty in the modern era.**

**I unfortunately don't own any characters.**

**So, let's get on with the story!**

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Until She's Crowned

Chapter 12- Prologue II

A week has gone by since Queen Leila's funeral. A delicate service that played several songs as tribute for her, honoring her name, making sure she'll live. Cameras, citizens. Everyone showed up to mourn her. Everyone but her sister.

Mallory stayed back. She caught herself before she fell, and did her only job. In protecting Aurora, she had to manipulate minds, and force her way through soldiers, police that would yield for Leila.

Aurora died in their heads, but she was missing in their hearts

She could already hear Diaval's voice when he returned. "Mistress you should have thought this one through."

But she doubted his return. Weeks, months she hasn't seen him. _You really should have thought this one through. _Well what was she supposed to do? Her rational isn't great when under pressure.

Shuddering at a memory, glimpses of a wedding rushed through her mind. Tell them that their oh so great King is such a monster, that even his own dear wife couldn't trust her life with her daughter? They would say she's crazy. She would be a monster.

But sitting near her vanity didn't help her cause. Vain, they would say. But she didn't want to find anything pretty about herself. Not when she had work, not when she was pressured, not when everything depended so much on her mindset.

Nothing could measure up to her hatred for the King. Stefan, who was falling apart, and the council feet behind from doing the same. No doubt would he remarry. A disloyal to the public. Their, an unfit ruler. He took that throne. He took it from her family. And she couldn't forgive him from everything else he'd taken.

But she was amused. He was falling, his ashes were scattered, and he knew her pain. He built a world for himself, and now it was scrambled, simply puzzle pieces that no longer fit.

But he was still King. Mallory had virtually nothing. No friends, no family. No Diaval to come back so she could listen to anyone's voice.

The ceremony, she wondered was like. Flowers, preferably those innocent daisies Leila would braid into crowns. Did those fill the vases of hundreds who walked the streets to her tomb? Was she dressed in blue? Or white? Younger, Leila always joked around, telling her sister. "When I die, you better wear white. I want to have an angel to look down at." Heaven she meant. From that paradise. Maybe she already found her place there.

She decided to pace. One hand was fisted around her cane, dragging herself, she wasn't anything without it. Maybe she was too worried, or tired, mourning was difficult to her. She's only done it once, and it was for anyone then. Barely for herself, but she died living. Now she's sure she'll be pressured. She now had to care for her sister.

The funeral she didn't attend. She didn't want to. But did. But it would have been too much to bear. While everything Stefan's world may be trembling, maybe stuck in an earthquake that shaking him in fear, it would shatter her. And she already had too many pieces that weren't back together yet. She got betrayed by a man she thought loved her, and now, another death followed.

She had no one left besides a niece she sent away, and an uncle she shut out.

"You should have thought this through." Rang in her head a third time, Diaval's voice, a grave one that did it's best to be patient with her. That would be his first word to her.

The truth she admitted was that, she was selfish. Too selfish to stand up and take care of her niece, and protect her herself. Aurora had Stefan's blood running in her, the same blood that had hurt her both mentally and physically. And she also had to honor Leila's dying wish, protect her. But it wasn't like Mallory could leave the whole country in Stefan's hands. She had to make sure he didn't put the land in chaos. She couldn't bear to leave her country like Stefan did her.

The princess pulled a dark thin lace, covering her face, with her soft hands gloved in black. She was mourning still, by the vision she gave others. A dark dress with flimsy sleeves. She'd worn feathers with a circlet she'd found in a box. Odd.

At least the veil was able to keep the tears springing from her eyes hidden from most.

Her sister is dead. Her lifetime best friend was dead. And there was nothing she could do about it. And Stefan still had the throne, possibly on the search for a new bride. The rest of her family, Uncle Robin, Uncle Balthazar...they didn't speak to her. And no doubt that they were at the funeral. She was the one to shut them out. And now, she was all alone.

Alone. Realization struck her. She had no one left. She just gave away her niece. She was the one who threw away her last chance at happiness, not being there for her sister in her final hours. She made herself alone. Unloving, and unlovable. Stefan had helped her open her eyes to the truth. And part of this was his fault as well.

She released a captured sniff, before releasing another. Starting from her heart, making it's way to the rest of her body, she started shaking violently, and it only increased. Her arms wrapped her head, her back arched, hunched behind her reflection.

Her green eyes became red and puffy. Her lips quivering, tear tracks staining her cheeks. "Alone." She thought, 'All alone. Just like I deserve to be.'

She shook her head, pinched herself, scratched her clothed thigh with long fingernails, hoping to wake up from the nightmare.

Nothing happened. This was real. She was living a nightmare

Everything that happened to her, always came with strings, that would always pull her back, no matter how hard she tried to break free.

Mallory heard a faint knock coming from the door. In rapid speed, she lifted her chin high, wiped the tears away with her right hand, controlled her breathing, dropped her shoulders, forced her stomach in, stiffed her lip, and made sure that it didn't appear as if she was crying.

"Your Highness?" It was a councilman. If she was correct, on the other side of the door was Sir Jonathon LeFou of the royal council.

Like most of the council members, they were wealthy rich men from different parts of Europe, who decided they wanted some sort of power. They get chosen by the monarchy, and most likely get the job if they fit all the requirements, and convince them that they just want what is best for the people. Like most of them, he lied.

She cleared her throat. "Come in."

The young councilman, who was just three years older than the princess, waltzed in, eyeing her, with a bit of grief in his eyes.

"I sure hope that i was not disturbing you, your Excellency."

Her elbows were on the vanity's surface, her hands interwoven in a fist. She shook her covered head, staring at her fist. "No." Her heart was pounding. Well, what was left of it. "I'm just grieving over my..." My sister. "The queen." She responded.

Jonathan nodded. "Well, your highness. The council requests to see you."

She let a heavy sigh escape her red lips, annoyed. "Tell them I'm grieving over my loss!" She snapped, her tone remaining serious.

"But you see, this has to do with the kingdom."

And that caught her attention. Stefan didn't do anything stupid, did he? After all, the kingdom is finally his, and his alone. Leila shouldn't have left him with so much power.

Without hesitation, she picked up her cane and tugged the skirt between her fingers, hurrying through the chamber, Jonathan running after.

Dashing towards the royal court, she opened the doors with as much grace as she mustered, the princess waltzed in, all the council already there.

"you wish to speak to me?" Her voice cracked.

All the men looked down at her vulnerable state. The lead councilman, Sir Jafar Culebra looked at her in great pity, before placing a fake smile on his toned face. "Ah, Princess Mallory. We're awfully sorry about your loss." He looked to Sir Frollo, one of the elder men in the council, who was looking down at her, rather in disgust. "As well as many of the other Noble men of other realms. In fact, most have brought gifts to show their pain."

They then continued to read from messages they have received, all from eligible men who were all too concerned for her, showering her with gifts. And, unsolicited invitations for marriage.

Silly them, thinking she would accept a proposal in a weakened state. Their mistake.

Mallory almost giggled. "Oh..." Did the council really think they could get away with trying to arrange a marriage. A merge between her and another from another realm. "Tell them all I will have to decline. I am still a bit sorrow." Her voice full of the innocence and purity she lost. Momentarily forgetting where she placed her grief.

Jafar raised an eyebrow, his brown eyes displaying two emotions; relief and disappointment.

"Well, we're sure that you can have a voice over those, minor decisions."

There was a 'but'. He had more to say. After all, he did make sure to include minor. "But what?"

Oh how clever she is. "But this next one, is more of a command, given your status. A woman going through so much emotions does need some orders to follow after all."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"As you may know, the queen has recently passed away, along with the heir."

"Ah, yes. The child of my sister, and the idiot she married." She murmured under her breath, hoping none heard.

Deciding to ignore the remark, temporarily, Jafar continued. "And since our kingdom is in need of an heir, we, as a council, decided to unite both you and...the current ruler of Moreise."

It took her a second to understand. They actually wanted her to marry Stefan? They wanted to marry her off from their expediency? To get an heir out of it? Were they actually arranging her marriage to her deceased sister's husband?

Were they actually giving Stefan the power to steal her softness, her agency, her only power she had left?

"Excuse me?!" Mallory blurted out, before she could think. "Are you actually going to marry me to the man you so foolishly gave the throne to?"

"Now, please..."

"And not to mention, he is my sister's husband!"

"Deceased." Sir James Hook corrected.

She had to think. "Isn't there a law against this?" Parliament must have something. Something that says you can't marry your dead wife's sister, even if he is king! Why didn't they have Stefan included in this?

"The Deceased Wife's Sister Marriage Act of 1907!" Frollo defended, his hands showing a rule book. "it clearly states that the man may marry his sister in law!"

She put her gloved hands on her hips. "Well not if the sister objects!"

"Never mind your opinion Princess! You are to follow and obey our order! You need to learn your place! You only hold one job!"Jafar yelled all at once, as the room faded into silence.

Her eyes turned to a death glare, not backing down. "You can't do this!" She argued, her glare being translucent through her veil.

Mallory was pulled away, hearing few snickers from the court, she felt the heavy metal on her arms, the guards were wearing iron, she noticed, feeling the harshness of the material pierce her skin.

They threw her in her room, and locked the door, just as the princess continued kicking and hitting the door, hoping someone would open.

When no one came, she rested her forehead on its wooden surface, defeated.

In a few months time, she will marry Stefan. An arranged marriage. A loveless one as well. They were both going to betray Leila. Why would Stefan do that? Choose to marry his sister in law, when his wife dies. Why didn't he just marry another woman, another princess from a different kingdom?

Then both rulers would not be related to the Moreise royal family in any way...

Used again! Stefan must have realized that if he didn't marry a royal someone from Moreise, then the kingdom would riot, turn against him, because he isn't from here.

Their excuse would be that someone from the enemy land was taking over.

She was just a pawn, a game piece that he would use to win the board game. The game he started playing when he was thirteen years old. When they met.

Her mind faded into the memories. The sickly sweet memories that started with a young girl falling in love, and ending with scars on her back, all alone, nude in the woods, with a blanket being the only thing that kept her covered. The violation. Their lips locking. The drink that numbed her thoughts and body, letting him take control of her.

Mallory shook away those living nightmares, and slid down the door, hugging her knees. She was engaged. To someone she doesn't love. To someone who doesn't love her.

How did life get so complicated?

At least she accomplished her sister's request, and made sure Aurora was in good hands.

The last thing she thought was about her niece's name, and it's meaning, dawn. Her favorite time of day...

* * *

A few months after that, Mallory was a few days away from her wedding.

The council made sure that the wedding fell on her birthday. Her 21st birthday, in fact.

And almost everyone had forgotten about Leila's passing. Everyone except her.

Mallory was in her chamber, maids, seamstress' and tailors surrounding the soon to be queen, making sure she fit the wedding gown. She wore a emotionless smile the whole time. Frollo and Jafar were in the room as well, making sure that she was going along with the wedding.

She had to make sure a single tear didn't stray from her eyes.

The princess had to make sure that the dress was modest enough, not too tight around her curves, not too revealing around her cleavage. She didn't want anyone getting any ideas.

She wore another circlet instead of a crown or tiara, of gold.

The dress hugged her slightly on her hips and breasts, the sweetheart neckline not too plunging. A sheer cape flowed, starting from her under arms. The sleeves were not as large as her funeral gown, but still reached mid thigh, mid sleeves under the sheer sleeves.

The print was pressed on flowers, the main gown thick from the fabric.

Her hair was looped, half up. The dark chocolate locks were folded in half, stopping at the top of her neck, then it was tied, and pinned with a pearl pin that once belonged to her mother.

The veil was lace, a few pearls embroidered onto the thin transparent fabric. Gold thread outlined the accessory.

She also wore a pearl necklace, her lips painted her favorite ruby color.

Her eyelids were stained a dark brown to the point where they were almost ebony, and gold faded the outside.

Her porcelain cheeks remained untouched. She looked like a doll. So that's what had become of her.

They wanted to replace her cane with a white walking stick, but she declined, not wanting to lose the only thing she felt dependent on.

They were already giving away what was left of her.

Maybe it was for the best she married Stefan...that way, she could watch over him, and make sure that he didn't go into madness. But the thought of bearing his children created a shiver down her spine. It wasn't like the council would make sure that there is intimacy between them, anyways. She'll just be the wife. The queen. The pawn that continues Stefan's reign.

It wasn't like she could cancel the wedding. The media was all over it. The council taunted her of her duty as princess, doing what is "right" for the kingdom. She was a whore, part of a harem. It was she always. It was always about her.

Yes because making heirs will so help the kingdom.

"Princess Mallory! We're late! For today's agenda, we need to meet with the royal event planner to talk about the remaining wedding plans, then we have to go to your dance lesson, then after that, you need to meet with the emperor of China! Then, of course, are you have tea with the queen of England..." The royal Advisor, Cogsworth scowled. "So that leaves us with..." He checked the wristwatch on his right wrist, his eyes widening. "twenty minutes!" Mallory rolled her eyes.

She motioned for the seamstress's to stop, just after the tenth time she felt their sewing needles bite into her skin. She could be losing so much blood just fitting a gown on.

Mallory stepped away from them all, her deep grief being hidden behind the grace she was born with.

Always having to live by the council's word.

She can't choose who to marry. They arrange it. Can't blame a man if they committed a crime against her. They just pass it off that she is mad. Can't say if the king is unfit to rule, because he's king, and she's a Princess. Just meant to bear kids, please their husband. Look good for their husband...

All she wants is to be free from them. All she wants is to speed wings and fly thousands of miles away. All she wants is to cry over her sister's passing like a normal person. Not wed her husband and take over her place that she left.

Her mind traveled to Stefan. Her betrothed. All the pain that he caused her. He didn't even come when Leila called for him. He just locked himself in the silly room he always locks himself in.

At least she had her revenge on him. Even if it wasn't how she expected or wanted it to go.

His precious daughter. Gone because of her, and he didn't even know it! Now he has to marry the woman who hates him. She will watch him break a little every day. Even if it will cause her some pain as well.

"Mistress?" A voice cracked. A voice she hasn't heard in months. She thought he ran away. To have the freedom she could only long for.

Mallory whipped her head to his voice. "Diaval..." She started. I thought you ran from me.

"Mistress?" He asked again. Confusion was in him. Most likely due to the fact that he comes back to his employer, and there she is, practically ready for a wedding. "You look..." Innocent. Actually approachable, she figured. "Stunning." Her expression froze. She's been called many things, but stunning wasn't one of them. Her heart leaped for a split second. Why? "What's the occasion?"

Nervously, her eyes blinked. Every time they opened, she would have a different glance. The window. The group of people who seemed to have forgotten about her. Cogsworth who was checking the time, as he exclaimed "Fifteen minutes!". Diaval. The painting behind his head. Diaval. The pile of engagement gifts. Diaval. Diaval. Diaval.

His question popped in her head when she realized she had been staring at him uneasily for minutes. Her eyebrows ceased. "I'm getting married." The dress hid her scars. He had only seen them once. No one else had been close enough. He asked her about them. She yelled a scowl.

His eyes widened, The lovely scar by his right eye spread with them. "Oh. To who, if I may ask."

There was something in his "Oh". She could swear it sounded like envy or jealousy. But it wasn't possible. "The...king." It was like learning a foreign language. Understanding, but still having a hard time accepting.

She could tell what he would think of her. A traitor. Marrying her dead sister's husband.

But he didn't express any of that. Slowly, he bowed before the soon to be queen. She was already a queen in his eyes. "Well...congratulations."

"Thirteen minutes, your highness!"

Mallory nodded. It wasn't worth something being congratulated for. Maybe, in a past life, she would've been happy. But she wasn't the same girl she used to be.

Diaval didn't know the whole story between Stefan and Mallory. He only knew what he needed. And that was that Mallory hated the king deeply enough that she could share her hatred with the whole island they were on that resided.

"Princess!" Cogsworth called again. "The coach has arrived!"

Mallory nodded. "Yes, right." She turned back to her 'wings', as she sometimes liked to refer him to. "I have to...depart. Please do to tell if anything happens, while I'm gone." She quickly slipped behind a black screen so she could change out of her wedding gown, and into a cream pencil skirt and matching blazer. She wore a lavender collarless blouse underneath. She pinned her hair in a bun, and stepped into cream flats. She threw the veil on her bed.

Leaving the room, she went on to what she considered a daily routine. Leaving the room with a smile. Leaving the room like everything was perfect.

* * *

A week later

'You can do this. You can do this', she chanted the mantra lightly to herself.

"Mal?" Her Uncle, Robin interrupted her motivation. "Are you ready?" He never liked Stefan. Why was he giving her away to him? Oh, right. The council and her marrying him is her duty.

Mallory gave a nod of her head, a fake smile painted on her face. "Of course. It's my day after all."

Robin put his hand on her shoulder, looking directly at her piercing eyes. "Look, love. I know you don't want to do this. I don't want you to do this either. But the council...you just can't defy them."

Her eyes glanced down. "I know." She gripped on the lace gloves. "It's my duty."

They both turned around, seeing a two little girls, holding flower baskets and wearing flower girl dresses.

It's time.

Robin offered his arm to her, and she took it, despite her hesitating mind. The double doors opened, and following the flower girls, they slowly walked down the aisle to the worst council made choice of her life.

_Happy Birthday to me..._

* * *

Stefan watched as Mallory stepped out into the aisle.

She was as beautiful as ever, even if he only saw her in glances.

He was shocked that she accepted the proposal at first, considering the horrors that he'd done to her. His childhood sweetheart. Her eyes weren't concentrated on him, but the little flower was her 21st birthday. Her coronation as Queen.

She had her arm hooked onto her Uncle's own.

This is what Mallory dreamed of when they were sixteen. She would dream of them getting married. The perfect wedding. In another time, it would have been the perfect wedding. But now, it wasn't.

'Stop!' He yelled in his thoughts. This peasant son won't give up. He had hard to build a future for himself. To give himself a name. To become king. He won't give it all up because some princess he wronged doesn't want to wed. He won't back down.

Besides, maybe in time, she will forgive him. They could ignore the past, and live in a happy ever after. Just like she wanted.

She would forgive him. He would forgive him. He would? She…?

But part of him couldn't shake off the blood-curling scream of that one unfortunate morning. The morning he finally got what he so rightfully deserved. A title.

He couldn't just get it stripped from him. They would call him out on it. They would demand someone from their kingdom and the royal family to rule instead of him. Having Mallory, the next in line as his queen would not only let him keep his throne, but probably resolve their conflict. Probably. Hopefully.

* * *

Mallory didn't want to look at him as the priest spoke the words of holy matrimony.

"If you could please exchange your vows."

Well, they exchanged some...words. Pretty simple, small promises that meant nothing.

The priest continued speaking, and Stefan agreed to the marriage with his 'I will', and now, it was Mallory's turn.

She could say no. She could have a voice in the situation. She could escape the life that she dreaded ever since she trusted a man that stripped her of everything. "I..." If she declined, she then would leave the kingdom to Stefan. She would leave her beloved country in the hands of a group of men that made sure they got their way. She would betray her country. Just like Leila did her, dying. "...will." She couldn't do it. It was a silly idea. Standing up. Standing up for her rights when all that she had to offer were children she and her new husband would produce. Where she will have to conceive them when they consummate the marriage later that night...

She would be crowned afterwards in a separate ceremony.

"When I die, I want you to wear white." I'm sorry Leila. You're not looking down at an angel.

The priest spoke some more, with the satisfaction of their answers.

"You may now kiss the bride..." Were his last words.

The kiss. Of course there was a kiss, it was a wedding. But the last time she's been kissed, the results were dreadful.

He kissed her, and unlike the first time long ago, it wasn't pure or true, like it been when she was 16. She knew that their future together was to be anything but happy.

Mallory didn't kiss him back.

She just had her eyes clenched, her lips pressed against the lips she had once longed for.

They departed, the audience applauded politely. Cameras flashed. She was going to be known as a tramp.

They held hands again, striding together as one through the aisle. The fake glee covering up their true feelings.

* * *

Diaval watched. He recognized a false smile from a distance. She was unhappy. So was he.

* * *

Mallory waited in their newly shared bedroom. Stefan and the new queen had avoided each other throughout the whole event.

Unconsciously, she slipped the gloves off her fingers, long fingernails sinking into the comforter. How was her sister's first night? She was guessing it was full of endless love making, since Leila was head over heels for the man.

She was too. Waiting everyday for him to come back for her, then just passionately kissing each other, in the deepest and darkest of shadows so that no one would ever see them.

Part of her still loved him. Longing for him to come back running to her. But that longing couldn't compare to her hatred and unforgiving attitude towards him.

What if there was still a chance for them? What if they could learn to love again? Create a family like she always wanted. A family she could never have...

The handle of the doors shifted. Someone was coming.

Mallory just stared at the single rose she had on her lap. It was so dark and dead, it was almost black. Just like her soul.

Stefan stepped in, wearing loose clothing.

"Mallory..." He started. Her name now foreign and different on his lips, as he had marked that name forbidden due to the guilt he felt.

Why did you betray me? Why did you all the sudden want to marry me? Why? She wanted answers to the questions she had already figured out. She wanted him to tell her something entirely different. She wanted him on his knees asking for forgiveness. Him telling her that he loves her. She wanted things to go back the way they were.

But at the same time she didn't. You just can't rewind the past. You just can't simply forgive and forget the kind of pain he put her through. Tears formed in her eyes. She sniffed, trying to draw them back. "Why?" She cried, not being able to hold despair or woe any longer. "Why did you take another in your arms?"

He opened his mouth to answer. No words came out.

"Why did you take Leila in your arms? My sister? The only thing I still held onto?" Her voice was cracking, and she started weeping. "The only person that wasn't afraid of the person you've turned me into?"

"Mallory..."

"And why, after everything, do you still decide to marry me?" She tried keeping more tears from falling, failing yet again. "Why, was it because you still wanted to have everything you don't deserve?"

"Mal..."

"Shut up!" She shouted. "Just shut up."

Without care, she took off running, tripping on her feet like a fool, not wanting to hear what he had to say. His silence spoke for him. Answering questions she's been dreading to listen.

New Queen of Moreise. She was just a replacement for what was dead. For what she lost.

The council will most likely lock her in a room with Stefan until some sort of intercourse between both parties happened.

An heir was all they wanted. For Mallory to produce children, whose father would have been someone who was more than involved with their past aunt.

Tears streaming down, she continued running. No. She couldn't be crying. It must be the exhilaration. The rush sweating on her face. She wasn't touched, or sad. She was angry.

Then something- or someone- caught her by the wrist.

The queen turned to glare at who she expected to be Stefan. But no, it was her faithful servant, Diaval.

"Mistress?" He asked with a pleading voice. "Is something the matter?"

Who was he to question her about something so...delicate? He was just a servant after all. Nothing more.

She sniffed, and wiped her dry tears away, finally having the courage to address him properly. "Yes, I'm alright." She lied.

Diaval sensed her fib, but knew better than to question. She couldn't trust him yet. They were no less than strangers, but no more than friends. Just confident. He decided to move on, guessing she wouldn't want to discuss what was troubling her on her wedding night. He predicted that it had to do with the bastard King, Stefan. "Alright...do you want to hear about the girl."

Mallory raised an eyebrow. Someone could hear, destroying the whole concept of Aurora's death. She gave a signal to keep quiet, and opened the door to her bedroom, allowing both of them to step inside.

He raised an eyebrow as well, but stepped inside, following the unsaid orders. Once inside, she closed the door shut.

"So? What is it with the little Beast?"

The dark haired man shook his head. "Not Beast, Mistress. Child."

"What's the difference?"

"Children aren't domestic animals."

"But isn't that what some become?"

"She won't."

The queen shrugged, and headed towards a table to prepare herself tea. "Trust me, under the care of those three, I wouldn't be so surprised." She mixed cinnamon into her tea, then added a lump of sugar. "So, what took you so long?"

"I wanted to make sure she would be taken care of."

"Why? She isn't your responsibility."

"No, but she was yours."

She stopped stirring her cup of tea, letting the teaspoon drop against the ceramic. "I don't believe you have the right to tell me what my responsibility is."

"And I don't believe you have the right to decide how a child should live their life."

She took a deep breathe. "They are minor. Barely an infant. She doesn't have much choice."

"But she is still a being!" His black eyes showed the worry. Mallory could tell that he most certainly spent many sleepless nights.

Pointing a long gloved finger at him, she cleared her throat. "I don't want you checking on that girl again."

He sighed. "Alright Mistress." He lied.

* * *

**That's it for today's chapter!**

**Oh my God, I had to go through so many different ideas for this chapter until I knew what to do, so I hoped you liked how it ended up!**

**Next time, we'll meet Aurora.**

**Note: I felt like writing a second part to the prologue to introduce some more information, and I wanted to show you what happens after Maleficent/Mallory gives Aurora away.**

**So until next time!**


	3. Chapter 3- The Shadow

**Thanks for all the kind reviews! That's what basically motivated me to finish, even if it is short.**

**I don't own anything that I don't own.**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 3- The Shadow

Aurora liked the man that would come and go from time to time, joining her at the woods behind her house.

Even through the simplest things he did like wave to her, or pat her head gently as he walked back to his vehicle. She knew that there was something special about that man.

She would silently giggle when he cocked his head, a bird he was like.

And even through the scars that tainted his face, the toddler knew that he was sincere.

At least, not like the men that were portrayed on her aunties' screen of moving pictures. Men, and even women that would hurt children like her.

But the man was nice. When his pale fingers would make contact with her golden locks, he never pulled. Not like her aunties' who seemed in constant rage with one another.

He was actually handsome, if you decided to look past the scars.

And for the oddest reason, the little girl could swear he was a bird.

After all, he seemed to have a true connection with them. Especially the ravens.

Aurora never had a father, like the other children on the street. Nor a mother.

But if a father touched their kin oh so tenderly, if a father would shine the brightest smile, besides the pain or grief in their eyes to assure her she would be alright, if a father would make sure he visited as much as he could...then the bird man was her father.

Sometimes, a shadow joined him, a gloomy figure dressed all regal. A crown of gold curving thorns sitting upon the head of the silhouette.

But Aurora only ever saw the mysterious stranger in the shadows. And something about it brought back a long lost memory of an ivory face with plump red lips and sparkling green orbs. A face that would belong to a fairy. It's as like she knew her...once upon a dream.

But that was probably only just a dreaming, as her earliest memories were faint.

Even once, Aurora tried hugging the figure, it picked her up, for the shortest of seconds, but was quickly sent away,

Just as the toddler was about to play with the horn like thorns on her head, and the charm of feathered wings that hung around her neck.

It didn't matter though. At least Aurora found her fairy godmother.

The bird man has stopped visiting her, and instead was replaced with an actual raven. Aurora liked to believe it was actually the man in disguise.

The shadow though, didn't stray. But would fade in and out through the months. Even though she never got to see it physically, or the man, the eight year old knew that the raven and fairy were always watching in a distance

By fifteen, Aurora understood the difference between real and imaginary. And she was so sure that the fairy and the raven were real...just not exactly a fairy or raven.

She would talk to her aunties (or try to talk) about her concept of two guardians who have been watching over her since she was a babe.

But they would always say that it was her mind creating illusions for her to be entertained with. So Aurora decided to leave it, every day believing it to be more and more true, as the fairy and raven never show.

So instead, the girl decided to take up writing and photography for her school's newspaper. Something that would keep her from asking of the tall contour.

Heck, they even encouraged her to take up acting. An activity that soon became a hobby Aurora would do from time to time.

For the three women themselves didn't know the mysterious legend that they're charge would chatter about.

Yet, that didn't matter to the young spriteful teen, as she continued looking forward to searching for her guardian angel.

The shadow in the woods.

* * *

Friday, January 17, 2014

Dear Diary,

I have found a quote that I actually like, and in truth, I have found it in a novel I have just finished:

"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow."  
― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

It is actually quite an exceptional, for you see, my 'fairy godmother' and the strange man don't come as often as they used to. It's sad. I'm even starting to believe that everyone was right. They were always part of my mind. Imaginary friends I must have created in childhood. After all, they started disappearing as soon as I started maturing. In both mind and body. Maybe it's just me growing up.

But I do have to admit I did think the most amazing thing in the world was that shadow. A strange thing is that whenever I would remember my young thoughts, I would receive the trigger of this woman with dark hair, snow white skin, and the brightest shade of crimson on her lips. She was as enchanting as an angel or fairy. A true creature that could uphold such great of which, here is one of my favorite poems at the moment:

Hold fast to dreams  
For if dreams die  
Life is a broken-winged bird  
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams  
For when dreams go  
Life is a barren field  
Frozen with snow.

-Langston Hughes, Dreams

I find that this poem is trying to teach you that you should try to accomplish your dreams to make them true, in order to truly live a well, good life; and if that's so, I need to find my calling, for it could be ruined within time. Before I even find it, possibly.

Anyways, the reason I wanted to share it was because it got me wondering, what if my dream is to find the shadow? Afterall, I strongly believe it's been following me my whole life. Ever since I was small, in fact. Maybe-

"Aurora! It's breakfast time!" Aurora's aunt, Flora, called from downstairs.

Hold that. I'll tell you later. I have to eat, then attend school. Until then, I bid you a goodbye.

Sincerely,

Aurora Rose

Aurora signed her signature in cursive, admiring the curves of the letter 'u', and how beautifully it appeared as those drawn curves continued, spelling out the rest of her name. She's always liked her name; it mean the dawn, her favorite time of the day. The time of the day when the sun rose, revealing it's face to the sleeping world.

Setting down her pen, she closed the charming little mahogany notebook she wrote in, her full name embroidered in gold thread on it's leather cover.

The blonde teenager then carefully shoved the diary into the pale bookbag she carried for school, not wanting to bend it. It was apparently a gift from her late mother that was given to her a few months ago, along with a pink vintage bike she rode to school. Her aunties wanted to save the sweet gifts for her, at least until she was a bit older. She had understood, and had used them gratefully.

Now, the girl was moving towards the door, making sure to pet her Balinese cat, Beauty/Marie Antoinette (only her friends, Mulan and Belle liked to call her cat that, due to Beauty's expensive taste) before heading to the dining room, ready to begin her day.

* * *

**I honestly didn't know how to introduce Aurora into the story, but eventually I saw her as a photographer and newspaper writer, with a bit of acting involved.**

**The rest of the princesses will show up later, as princesses or queens.**

**Although, there will be many Disney Heroines making an appearance.**

**Just facts, I hope you all enjoyed this short chapter! In the next, we can expect to look at Aurora's school life, and we'll see what's been going on with Mal when she wasn't looking over Aurora all these years through flashbacks.**


	4. Chapter 4- Little Things

**Note: A part of this chapter has been rewritten.**

**First, I would like to acknowledge DancingKitKat for reviewing every chapter, I appreciate that you appreciate this fanfiction.**

**And to the Guest, I will have more Diaval coming up, in fact, I'm even planning on this father-daughter type scene where Diaval is helping Aurora to be a proper princess before showing her off to Mal.**

**Thank you to everyone who followed/reviewed/favorited and I even thank you for reading it. I can't tell you how much each of those things encourages me to continue on with the story!**

**Alright, so I introduce to you, chapter 4**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 4- Little Things

Mallory set down her cup of tea. Jafar, who paid her a willing visit stirred his own cup. She couldn't bear to even glance at the old man. Marriage, he proposed was the reason for this very private meeting. She wanted to chide him, how would their relationship benefit Moreise?

But he looked hardly at her. He was ignoring her stares. How she coldly gazed at his direction. But she tried to be defiant. To let him look at her, and see that she's perfect. She's still sane. "Fine." Mallory searched for further words.

Jafar almost snarled at her. He was tied with the same glare. The councilman raised his cup of tea, making her wait, to continue the conversation. "Fine?" He repeated like a question. He stopped, and lowered the porcelain teacup from his lip.

The Queen couldn't respond back. She couldn't break down into a scramble of words for a better explanation. Not when she knew how blunt her answer was.

"If you do believe it's fine." He said, looked away. He was hiding a callous grin, from that angle Mallory could make out a lifted tug for a smile. "I may want to ask why?"

"Why?"

"Your unfortunate absence of children."

Mallory blinked in confusion. Children? No children did she want in the picture. So why was that aspect so heavily involved with her?

"Your Majesty, if I'm allowed to say, but your job as Queen is to bear heirs."

But then she looked into his tone. Determined to break her down. But she wouldn't. Not when Moreise stood behind her. He tried a honeyed accent to his next choice of words. Trying too sweetly, as Mallory glanced back to him. Her cup of tea still steamed, hot. Children? He was in no place to…"Pardon me?" The Queen held her head high, never thinking once to satisfy him any of those details.

He indeed was satisfied, his face said it all. He had received a reaction. A quaint one, but she was definitely disfigured by his words. He couldn't care for her, Mallory understood. They toyed with her, tried throwing her around like a rag doll hung by a chain. How did Leila manage?

Mallory of course fought back. She wouldn't be a dog that would be tied down. She wouldn't waste her time on tears, or wither away. Leila managed. But she didn't survive. Existed, never truly living.

"Your Majesty," Jafar, that devilish man began, almost mocking her name, title. "It may not be in my place to say," Nothing ever is. "But don't you want children?" Aurora was enough to deal with. "All women must provide their families with children."

She rolled her eyes, yes. She wouldn't have children. No, that wasn't in her fate. She couldn't care for his rhetorical remark, not unlike his next line. _All women must provide. _That one made her blood boil. She wasn't like most women now. Her face torn. "What?" She felt flabbergasted. Something silly, an emotion so strange, she never felt out of place or confused like that before. But just what?

His smile was now seemingly permanent, unchangeable, as he continued to explain his cause. "Three years of marriage." Hell, he meant. "It's expected of now that you would've been expecting."

Her eyes screamed rage, as this ember of green fire was sparked in her eyes. Flames scattered like ashes, but her body breathed more lengthily, as her mind tried processing everything. "So?"

"Three years, I repeat. I want to blame those miscarriages women ought to have from time to time, but I assume you're too graceful to step into those mistakes."

Her lips pursed. Too graceful. Miscarriages. Nothing close. Nothing was what it was. No tension, no action. Nothing coming from both sides. Three years. Three years of this miserable marriage she was trapped in, with a man who wouldn't look at her, too embarrassed of his mistakes, she who would turn away at every corner where he would stroll by.

"You haven't even…"

"Haven't even what?" Mallory dared with a raised eyebrow, her fingernails tried digging into her skin. But she wouldn't bleed.

He lifted his head and looked to her, so she could look into the eyes of a liar. "Tell me, your Majesty. Have you or have you not consummated your marriage yet?"

At that, the Queen instantly regretted challenging him. Her face flushed a deep red, and she turned her head, hoping for a cool wind to take away that heat, and to make him stop. She couldn't allow for him too, to violate her with cruel vulgar words and stares that shook her off guard.

He knew, she realized. Mallory instantly felt disgusted, just another layer of the annoyance and anger. Stefan. What has he told Jafar? What has he told all those comrades he shared a drink with? Exposed, she felt. Naked again, with that cold air and scarring feeling.

"No." She finished her words quickly. "Nor should there need to."

She wanted to stray from the topic, she wanted to run, despite how stupid her attempts would look. She would be an idiot to try. Her hands immediately searched for her cane, a stable weapon, she supposed. Enough to fend for her.

"My dear Queen, it's for the good of the kingdom!" Jafar cried. Touch me. She wanted to dare him, to see how far he'll go, she wouldn't regret hitting him.

"Good for the kingdom!" Mallory mocked. Ha! "Are you mad?"

"I was just about to ask the same from you." He remarked, his eyes tied to her clutched cane, her finger shaking, holding the wooden stick she relied on.

"Look your Majesty," he started with belittling eyes, tired. She wondered what his game was. But he was in the same level as her now. He was tired, it was obvious. "A woman can't rule without her husband. These three years, you've worked, and you've worked with your iron fist." And so rightfully she did.

"But you've left your husband behind. We shouldn't let that power get into your head now. Stefan, he's your king. He's who you belong to. And you've failed at giving him children, much more boring him.

I'll see to it, you do bring him a child. You need to inspire him." He left those words hanging in her thoughts. Inspire him? She could scoff, but immediately, she was turned away in fear.

She had to leave. Children. Aurora. Aurora, Aurora, Aurora. If she could've had accepted any call, she had to put her thoughts away, looking at the skies that would've spread outward to New York.

•

Much later, Mallory watched Aurora. From behind those trees, she felt like she's raised a child, a safe distance away. Feet away, Aurora, a small five year old then, was racing down, her small frail chubby arms reaching out to a butterfly. Diaval cautiously followed behind her.

She could've replaced Diaval with Stefan. Whisk away the girl from this happy tale she's been living, and truly raise her. No more demands from Jafar or anyone. No fear would she live in, and she could be happy. Read Aurora to sleep with those stories of fairies and Princesses, ones that end happily.

She had to stop doing that. There was no happily ever after. Aurora would be terrible under Stefan's watch. Much more behind those tall stone walls. Mallory would be trapped. Reaching for New York, anywhere really. What's done is done. She couldn't bring Aurora back yet. Stefan's spawn. Leila's baby. And she just wasn't Leila.

The Queen shook away those thoughts. Aurora was crying tearfully, Mallory saw that she had fallen, a scraped knee, and Diaval cradled her tiny body. Those three glorified nannies had gone off in their arguments again. Diaval looked to her, pulling her from behind her place in the shadows.

She saw how the hurt in Diaval as Aurora whimpered. She rolled her eyes. How to deal with crying children. She looked into the sky, and saw that thing she's been chasing, a brilliant blue butterfly with beautiful wings.

"Look!" Mallory pointed out, as bored as she was. Aurora looked up, and that contagious smile she kept grew back, blooming like a rose that once withered. She picked herself back up again, never mind how the mud was splattered across her summer dress, or how the grass stained her knee, and her golden hair as unruly as it could be. She ran along.

"Well." Diaval started with the same grin that caught her here, against her word, Diaval kept seeing Aurora, and inexplicably dragged his Mistress along for the ride.

"Oh go. Make sure she doesn't cry again." She ripped that smile from his face, but that mischievous and wild gleam didn't stray from his black eyes.

Mallory wished Diaval had dragged her. The Mayor of New York would be waiting. The Virginian governor would join him. And she didn't want to be reminded of Aurora, to look into her blue eyes and see Leila. She wished she hadn't known, that Diaval followed her word. But as Aurora ran along a meadow, racing Diaval, her lips were curved into a small smile, Aurora with her happy air, spreading.

Oh, the Mayor could wait. She had to protect Aurora after all, watch, make sure she stays alive. For Leila. Besides, she wanted to see the outcomes of this. But for now, she would have to stick to the shadows.

* * *

Aurora drank her strawberry smoothie from her bottle. Her fruit salad sat staring at her, making her more tempted to eat it all up.

The teen was waiting for her friends, Belle French and Mulan Fa, to make their way to their table. The one that could see the sun hidden behind clouds due to the cold winter air; where it's beauty lay hidden, unknown by others, until it came time where it revealed its bright rule over darkness.

She actually liked the sun. Specifically when it was rising. When it was dawn.

The blonde heard her best friend, Mulan, take a seat next to her, as well as she sat down her huge tray of apples on the cool table.

Aurora blinked a few times. Never has she seen so many slices of the same fruit all shoved into a crammed plastic box. "Why so many apples?" She wandered out loud in curiosity.

Mulan groaned, and a loose lock of black hair fell on her pale face, ruining the perfect bun she wore. "You know they said 'curiosity killed the cat', right?"

She shrugged. "What is there to kill me? Besides, you know I'm naturally curious." It was true. When she questioned something, the first thing she would do is find the answer. One of these days, the truth will hurt though. But it didn't matter to her now. She just wanted to know why her friend was to be eating so many apples.

Mulan shook her head slowly, and started munching on the fruit, savoring the sweet taste before swallowing. "If you have to know so badly, I'm supposed to be eating them for balance."

"And who told you that?"

Her friend rolled her eyes, another one of the red skinned treats entering the hole called her mouth. "My grandma. She wants me to be more...feminine."

Aurora tried to hold back a laugh. "So do they feed you misogyny you until you act like a girl?" That's it, she couldn't hold it back. Her voice choked out a giggle at the thought of sexist fruits.

Mulan rolled her eyes, while Belle finally joined them, her lunch tray carried by both hands, while her book was tucked between her elbow and torso. Oh, the struggle was for real. Aurora could practically see her friend's arm was trembling violently, as her book-Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet-was sliding away from the strong grasp, threatening to fall.

Aurora was quick to help the brunette in need, by taking the book away. Her blue eyes were fixed on the cover. It was fairly simple, a cream color with a single rose below the title, and Shakespeare's name was larger than anything else. Ever since she took up photography for a newspaper, middle school and high school, she would always notice these tiny details. Especially when she would skim through the newspaper looking for her own pictures, her mind wanting to check that it was true. That she was published, at least for the school.

And when she would skim through the newspaper, she would stop and notice. Alice always included a picture that wasn't related to what she wrote. The anonymous adviser would always sign their name off in messy cursive tiny letters. She, herself would stick to the same pastel pallet that made you think of cotton candy.

And then, she saw the rose on the cover of Romeo and Juliet. A pretty wilting rose. And she had felt the cover long enough to know that bit wasn't a book, but a script.

She sat the heavy pamphlet down next to her rightful owner. "I thought you already read it. Twice!" Aurora said dryly. Why was this bothering her so much.

Belle shrugged, taking a bite out of the school's famous Walt's Chicken Alfredo. "I wanted to look it over before the school put it on as a play."

That's why. "Oh." She didn't know why, but she always had to be in these type of things. She always turned to acting, because that was the only way you could put on a good show for everybody. To mask what you believe in so strongly. Acting had helped herself believe that there wasn't a shadow following her around her whole life. It was just her young mind confusing imaginary with reality.

"Are you directing?" Mulan piped, already have eaten a third of her tray.

The brunette shook her head in response, as her fork played with the pasta noodles. "No. I'm more of a reader and writer." She smirked before continuing. "Besides, you know how Ms. Carroll is about getting everything her way."

Ms. Ursula Carroll was the drama teacher, as well as choir. Though she had a powerful voice, she also had mastered the art of manipulation, often tricking students into trouble for her own entertainment. And of course, there was her daughter, Vanessa Carroll. Oh, she was even worse than her daughter. And unfortunately, she had to see both for sixth period.

•

Three classes later, Aurora finally found herself in Ms. Carroll's class. As usual, she started class with critically judging everyone in silence (except her daughter. Oh no, she usually complimented her, and made it quite verbal as well). Following the usual routine, she then took quick class attendance, not needing to look back at them to do so. It was like she was some sort of witch, because they swore the woman had eyes everywhere. So Ms. Carroll, self involved fabulous woman who put herself atop anything.

After that, Ms. Carroll would then do many other continuous steps before starting class, which included singing, giving useless tips to the girls about men under her breath, and fixing her pale blonde hair. After minutes, class had officially begun.

"Class" She would start.

"Yes Ms. Ursula." They would respond. You see, Ms. Carroll was the type of woman who didn't believe much in formalities, and tried so hard to hang on to their long lost youth.

"Well, alright." The obese woman said, pulling out her reading glasses. "As you may or may have not heard, our class will be putting on the ever so beloved, Romeo and Juliet as our mid with play." Chatter from the girls and some groaning from the guys immediately filled the room.

The noise soon stopped once the teacher threatened the students, her voice drowning out everyone. You know, just the standard threat a teacher makes about ripping your soul from you and crush it if you don't shut up. "Well, before I was rudely interrupted, I mentioned Romeo and Juliet. Now, I know since this is theatre, we need the best of actors to play the female" her glance quickly went towards Vanessa "and male leads. And there is also several other characters. But after that, we are left with the worthless, so those of you who don't have any chance whatsoever" she dramatically placed her hand over her forehead, as if she was about to comically faint. "don't even bother wasting my time with your audition. Just...please work backstage." She was pleading now. Desperate, dramatic, Aurora looked to her in a nauseous admiration.

After that, she passed around scripts, and mentioned possible things you could do if acting wasn't your real edge.

Aurora took quick notice that it was exactly the same as the Belle's copy.

Well, she didn't really want to act. Not in front of so many people especially. Though Juliet did pipe her interest, and just imagining having her first kiss in stage with whoever Romeo would be...she just couldn't. Backstage was where she belonged. But just maybe.

•

Aurora rode her bike home after school.

It was an adorable light pink vintage bicycle she had received for her 15th birthday. It even had a basket in the front.

She liked riding her bike. It was one of those times when she was outside, but not walking. No, her feet were off the ground, the only thing keeping her attached to earth being the bike itself. And she was moving freely too. Ever since she mastered riding one, Aurora had learned how to think on one without crashing.

And that's when the thoughts that were locked away in some storage box in her brain would magically reappear, as if they never left her mind.

Riding also helped her notice things she never had noticed before. Just last week, while biking in front of Belle's, she had noticed their book inspired bird feeder, and sure enough, two blue birds were in there, singing sweet melodies to each other.

Now, what she noticed was the snow filling on the ground, piling up on themselves, and each multiplied, making it nearly impossible to ride.

Frustrated, the blonde hopped off her bike, pulling the pink colored vehicle with her.

Living towards the city was maddening. Though she was awfully close to the city, it wasn't quite that they stumbled through obnoxious taxi cabs or sky high glass buildings meant for offices. They lived in one of the many counties that resided against the big apple.

A sleek black limo drove through the snow, all so suddenly, that Aurora jerked her bike away, in result, it dropped to the ground.

The tires deep print, that it almost cleaned all of the soft ice from the ground.

She looked back at the car, only being able to make out an all too much familiar figure.

* * *

**Well this was edited and somewhat drafted over. I tried. Beginning is mostly rewritten, however the plot is still the same, just for it to be a bit more "realistic" and humane, and Jafar is still a creeper. I also fixed slight imperfections or revised, so I'm really happy with it now (08/30/2016)**

**Thank you for all those lovely reviews! I appreciate and smile at everyone who has supported me so far, I swear I read everything, and always have all of your comments in mind whenever I'm writing. But just thank you.**


	5. Chapter 5- A Secret Kept

Chapter 5- A Secret Kept  
**Thanks to those who reviewed, favorited, or just anything like that!**

**As always, I don't own anything I don't own, and I used some lines from both the Princess Diaries and Maleficent, but credit goes to the writers.**

**Please enjoy, and I deeply apologize if I have misspelled or used incorrect grammar, since I only have myself to beta read, but I will go back in the future and correct anything.**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 5 - A Secret Kept

Aurora sat at the dinner table, politely munching on the buttered biscuit her auntie Flora had baked in the oven.

Dinner at her house was usually quite, besides the rants her aunties would occasionally mumble to each other.

Aurora picked at the loose corn and mashed potatoes, trying to find out what to write for her article. She was most likely doing it on the school play-she was sure Ms. Carroll would love the publicity coming from the school newspaper. Maybe that would give her the extra credit.

"Aurora?" Auntie Fauna piped in a small voice.

Aurora turned, setting down her fork-her aunties taught her that it was rude to play with food while someone was speaking directly to you. "Yes, aunties, what is it?"

All three exchanged glances, pointing their noses at her direction. A sign Aurora noticed whenever they were about to tell her something that would make her either break into a panic of nerves, or fear. She then noticed that they were elbowing each other in the rib. Such a clear sign.

Finally Flora gave up, and sighed. Usually, they were the type to argue who was going to share the news with her, which was the lead to their fighting. But now, they were the opposite. "Youhavetomeetwithyourgodmothertomorrow!"

The blonde frowned, tilting her head. "What?"

"She wants to have tea." Flora added.

Aurora shook her head, shaking her fists for them to stop. "Rewind! Who wants to have tea, and who am I meeting?"

All three older women shared another weary glance, and soon it was Flittle's turn to speak.

She was the second oldest, and always wore blue. Even the tips of her brown hair were dyed an indigo shade. She was her favorite aunt.

"Your godmother..." then there was silence.

Her eyebrows creased. "My godmother? You said that I had no other family left."

There was a nervous giggle coming from Fauna, who was tugging on her tight yellow locks.

Flora was the one who tried avoiding all eye contact possible. "We have something to tell you." Everything came spilling out afterwards.

·

Aurora read her copy of the script. She was at the scene where Romeo was standing by Juliet's balcony, professing his admiration for her.

But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun! Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief, That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.— Oh! Only if guys talked to girls this way these days, instead of calling them out on the street. But of course, there are those girls who live for that type of attention.

"Class!" Ms. Carroll called, clapping her hands together.

Aurora turned to face the stage of the auditorium, where her drama teacher was wearing a tight black dress that teachers shouldn't be allowed to wear. Oh the horror.

Once Ms. Carroll received all eyes on her, she gave a tight smile and turned on her heels. "I'll be partnering all of you up for the day to study your lines." She started reading out the names. Alice with Mary. Andy with Wendy. Aurora with Vanessa. The list continued.

As if more surprises were coming her way, not only did she have a godmother now, but for a strange reason, Ms. Carroll decided to put her daughter, who is one of the most snobbiest girls in school, together with her, Aurora Briar Rose, who had one of the bubbliest personalities.

She sighed. After school today, she will have to meet with her godmother, the fancy European woman who ignored her for sixteen years.

Where was her fairy godmother when she needed her?

"Are you just going to stand there or are we going to rehearse this?" Vanessa snapped. Aurora tried smiling, having told herself that there is at least some kindness in one's heart.

The blonde nodded. "Where do you want to start?"

The girl lifted one perfectly manicured finger, pointing it at the script. "Scene where Romeo is at Juliet's window and keeps commenting about her beauty." Her voice reached her ears, giving it a sour tone. Nothing sweet was in her words.

Aurora reopened her script, and started reciting Juliet's lines when Vanessa stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Her smile was laughing at her.

Aurora raised an eyebrow. "Practicing."

Vanessa's dark eyes intimated her grin. "Yeah, I know, but Juliet?"

"Is there something wrong with doing so?"

"I'm just saying, if anyone's going to get the part of Juliet, it's me. I mean, who else would fit the role besides the best actress in class?" Was she serious? Aurora forced herself from revealing a not so nice comment.

Instead, she gave her a friendly grin and said "well, everyone else has an equal chance, plus they have to audition."

Vanessa flipped her ebony hair. "Whatever, let's just get this over with. I don't want to have to miss cheerleading practice for this."

Aurora rolled her eyes, and took over the role of Romeo, while Vanessa sang Juliet's.

Soon enough the bell rang, and Alice caught up to her.

"Aurora! I was wondering where you went. I just had the oddest sensation and I simply must write about it! Anyways, do you want to come with me to take the principle photography for the school newspaper?"

Aurora apologized, saying that she already had plans, but promised her that she would join her tomorrow.

Both blondes agreed, then they were off their separate ways.

·

Aurora followed the address her aunts gave her. It was just at the edge of the town near a lake. The house was enormous, a forest green that matched her cardigan, and buried beneath a blanket of snow.

The large thorn like gates only made her more curious. They were made of some sort of hard metal, but not iron, and sharp edges were curved, just like thorns would.

From what she could see, some flowers were even glowing through the harsh winter snow!

She reached the buzzer.

The speaker informed her of visiting hours.

"I'm for a meeting with my godmother."

He sighed. "Name?"

She forgot her godmother's name. Her aunties had said it before, last night at dinner, this morning. Then it clicked when she saw the great moorland through the gates. "Mallory Moore."

There was a faint silence before something buzzed. "Oh. Please come to the front door."

Then, the thorns parted way for her and Aurora's wander increased.

Once inside, two men checked her backpack, as if they didn't trust her. She allowed them. She wasn't hiding anything, but the thought why were they checking?

They finished and a tall man in a black suit lead her to a living room, where it was nicely decorated with white, cream and forest green. Flowers adorned walls and shelves in every room.

Suddenly, a woman who was a bit taller than Aurora walked into the room, her hair was a shade of red, and the pink she wore complimented it perfectly.

She was speaking into an earpiece talking about flower arrangements and a count.

"No, no, I said the briar roses, sunflowers just don't work in this type of weather." She had a southern drawl, but was as well feminine.

She stopped and smiled at the blonde, offering her hand to shake, which she accepted. "Hello Aurora. I'm Rosetta Gardina, from Moreise."

"It's nice to meet you." Aurora looked around, eyeing all the bright vivid lilies and primroses that were growing from their vases. "Um, where am I?"

"The Moreisian consulate." Aurora saw that someone had just talked to Rosette because of the way she pressed the earpiece to her ear.

"Why are there flowers still alive? It's winter."

"Moreisian flowers. We are special for them, since they are able to stay alive and healthy through all four seasons."

"Oh."

"Your godmother should be here in a few moments, so please, make yourself comfortable." Rosetta left.

Make yourself comfortable. Make yourself comfortable...Aurora sat on the cream couch which had a muted green quilt over it. The pillows were a darker green.

There were few paintings, not a lot but just enough, of people, one or two were of couples, another of two girls, one blonde and the other brunette, horseback riding. One managed to catch her eye. A young woman, who couldn't be less than 20, smiling at something that wasn't shown. Her eyes were blue, and her hair was gold. She was wearing a gold dress and a crown. Aurora's fingers stroked the dry paint, smooth against the canvas.

Footsteps were heard, and Aurora turned, and shadows were where they came from. Whoever was there clearly didn't want to make themselves known. "I know you're there. Don't be afraid."

A female voice laughed. "I'm not afraid." Her voice was laced with an accent. She could already make it out that the woman was European.

Aurora responded back in her own lighter voice. "Then come out."

"You won't exactly like me. You'll might even be afraid of me." Her eyes-a luminous green-were glowing as she gave a warning. Aurora recognized those eyes. She recognized that silhouette.

Aurora shook her head. "No I won't." What was there to be afraid of? The woman could be wearing horns with fog surrounding her, and she would still try to hug her.

She could see the silhouette shrug. Slowly, she walked out of the shadows and into the light. The woman's face was ivory, lips that could shame a rose, and familiar chartreuse eyes.

Aurora held her breath.

* * *

**Thanks for reading!**

**If confused on anything (specifically why Aurora might fear Mal) all will be revealed within the next two chapters, and be sure to get ready for loads of Diaval!**

**Until then, bye!**


	6. Chapter 6- I Know You

**Thanks to those who read/review/favorite/follow, as well as encourage me throughout writing this PD AU of Maleficent.**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 6 - I Know You

Memories were not easy to forget.

Scars and bruises weren't easy to hide.

The water was still, and the bubbles were floating above.

Memories came flooding back of many years worth of abuse, violation. A man's bodies forced against hers. The blood he would draw between her legs from time to time. All the failed pregnancies, the miscarriages. All that, she wanted gone. She couldn't have suffered through it all, but, she did?

Mallory hugged her knees, and her lips pressed against them in a paused motion.

A tear slid down her cheek, and her dark hair was a curtain, hanging down her sore breasts and scarred back.

A sob escaped her mouth.

Her nails were stained with the blood of her arms, and the water around her turned a faint pink before fading back to clear. She wanted to feel a pain much worse than what she has now.

She reached out for the phone, and dialed the only number she bothered to remember.

It rang once, then it rang twice before the receiver picked up.

"Diaval?"

"Mistress?"

Another sob escaped, and she had to cover her mouth in order for no noise to escape.

"Arrange a trip to New York."

* * *

Aurora held her breath.

She knew this woman. Everything about her. All sharp angles. Cold beauty. The golden tints within her eyes.

There was only one other person who was capable of holding all that magnificent elegance.

Her fairy godmother.

The woman smiled kindly, her teeth a bright white against ruby red lips. "Hello, Aurora. It's so nice to...finally meet you."

"I know who you are..." Aurora admitted, but soon had regretted it.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

Aurora nodded her head, and blonde locks danced along with the movement. "You're my fairy godmother..." She spoke in voice so soft that you could practically hear a pin drop.

The brunette's face went from stoic to perplexed, as many emotions showed: amusement, confusion, reluctance, you name it.

"What?" She said in a callous tone. "You think I'm your fairy godmother?"

Aurora blushed faintly, giving a small nod in response. She made sure not to look into her eyes.

The woman didn't seem to mind. because she gave a reassuring glance, and concentrated her gaze on the painting that Aurora was looking at seconds ago. "Well, I'm no fairy, but I am your godmother."

That helped ease her embarrassment. Aurora stepped closer, and wrapped her arms around the tall woman, who froze immediately. 'Oh no!' She thought. She always had a habit for coming on too strong or sometimes overstepping boundaries. Aurora thought of the worst possible outcomes. What is Mallory didn't like her? What is she didn't want a goddaughter? No wonder she tended to avoid her all these years! Or worse-what if she didn't want her as a goddaughter?

The tall woman, who was now identified as her godmother, Mallory, took a step back, but didn't seem like she hated the embrace. Aurora could actually see a bit of gentleness tingling through her eyes. And she could also see fear.

Mallory cleared her throat. "Please, sit." She offered.

Both sat down, an awkward silence filling the gap for the words they weren't saying.

Instead, Aurora's eyes studied her godmother's fingers. Her ring finger had no ring, but creases that were tinted a faint pink, a contrast against her ivory skin. A hint that there was a ring that was no more.

She could only guess that she was just recently divorced.

Mallory's back ached.

Sure, after 17 years, she should be used to the pain, the burning sting seemed never ending, and the discomfort she felt whenever something brushed against her scars roughly, making her conceal the throb with a wince, but besides all that, she should be used to it. More than 16 years, after all.

She hadn't felt such pain the whole day, if you don't count this morning, when her black blouse slid against her scars, but it was a daily routine.

Then, the girl hugged her. She threw her arms around her, and the man-made marks on her back cried to her heart, telling her to stop.

Not only did the embrace break the rule she lived by for the 17 years past (don't let anyone touch you), but it also set a certain amount of warmth to near her very dark and tainted soul.

Nowadays, the public and media would call her Maleficent, or the Queen of Malice. She remembered one American newspaper article back in 2009 that was titled "Maleficent, the Mistress of All Evil". It's funny how she earned the nickname. Despite rumors, like how she apparently enslaved men to do her bidding, or how she's a threat to the throne, because she wasn't at her sister's funeral. She was 'detached'. She didn't know happiness. She had learned throughout these past years that she would rather be feared than loved.

Of course, there were those who she stayed grounded with, a small select group of people, and those were her assistant, Rosetta, Diaval, uncles Robin and Balthazar, and occasionally the Prime Minister.

But she didn't stay grounded with Stefan. Nor would she with his daughter, Aurora. Even for Leila's sake. She just couldn't.

So Mallory took a step back, not wanting to get close.

Aurora continued examining her fingers, until one of them broke the silence, and to her surprise, it was the older woman.

"You look so much like your mother." She sighed in comment.

This perked up Aurora's interest. "You knew my mother?" She made up so many questions in her head. How was she like? Is she really dead? Who is her father?

Mallory's wandered, as did her nod. "Of course, we've been friends." A tear was in brink of falling, but disappeared after various violent rounds of blinking, Aurora noticed. "...were, I must say at this...never mind."

Aurora's blue eyes widened, and she held her breath so strong, that her throat tightened.

"The tea is served, Madame." Rosetta interrupted.

Aurora released her breath, and followed her godmother, and her black cane, which stomped on against the hardwood as she walked.

·

Mallory continued stirring the hot tea. Aurora tried doing that too, and the cinnamon aroma reached her nose.

A few desserts were set out, mostly including cupcakes and fruit.

They were having tea time in an indoor garden, were even more flowers were kept, and basically sprouted color in the areas where the house was lacking.

A chef, two butlers, and a few men wearing shades were spread out throughout the garden, keeping all eyes on Mallory.

"So...why am I here, anyways?" Aurora started, and her fingernails started tapping against the ceramic tea cup.

The woman sighed, and sat down her tea. It was the 12th time she had sighed ever since she made an appearance. "Tell me, Aurora. Have you ever heard of Leila Grace Rose-Moore?"

Didn't ring a bell. "No." Besides the fact that Mallory and her share a last name.

"She was the...late queen of Moreise."

"Oh. What about her?"

She sighed again. "Leila Grace Rose-Moore was my sister...and your mother."

The blonde blinked several times, in shock. Her mother was queen. Her mother was dead. The woman before her was her aunt. "What?" She gasped, feeling rather betrayed. Where was this woman all these sixteen years? Tears and anger were springing, just waiting to be released. Her life is a lie! No, this possibly couldn't be true. She is just an average girl, living in New York with her three aunts. None of this could possibly be true! "You're joking." She claimed.

Mallory sat there stunned for a few seconds. Her eyes and eyebrows outlined several forms of confusion, and her tone followed. "Why would I joke about something like that?"

This was crazy. She couldn't be related to royalty. "No, look, wouldn't I have to be a..."

"...a princess and I am queen." It was as if she read her mind. "You're not Aurora Rose." Oh dear, that wasn't even her identity. "You're Aurora Rosamund Moore, Princess of Moreise."

Heavy breaths were all that she could take.

The snow produced a storm like hummingbirds created a song, both loudly, yet in a beautiful fashion; words that couldn't describe what Aurora felt.

And that was betrayal. Her heart broke, as did her last hope of finding her family. Who she truly was. Being lied to her whole life. And pushing this...revelation, this...this was terrible.

She could tell she was being real, due to the seriousness of her voice, and the way she carried herself in a regal manner. Her fairy godmother, was an aunt who never tried contacting her. That's it; she wasn't blind anymore. She opened her eyes and saw the world for what it truly was around her. A lie.

She could already feel hot tears burning down her cheeks. "I'm a princess?" She whispered softly.

One butler was already coming to offer her tissues, while Mallory just stayed put, not knowing how to handle the situation; how can you care for someone when you don't know how to care for yourself?

Mallory wanted to reach out to her, as Aurora's crying face reminded her much of Leila's when she was pleading for her child's good will. But she couldn't. She was failing her sister once more.

Before Aurora could be touched by anyone, she stood from her seat, and ran. She didn't care where she was going, as long as it was away from her. She couldn't let the person who ruined her chance at knowing more about her family touch her. 'Don't touch me' she mentally pleaded to her, and thankfully, she didn't.

·

Aurora confronted her aunties, yelled at them, screamed at them for a resolution, trying to find someone who wouldn't lie to her.

But she couldn't find that-not in them, at least. They were even worse than the queen. They knew this whole time that she was a princess, and they never even gave her the hint that she is a princess. Nor, that she had an aunt who's a queen in a small island.

How could she had been so blind to the real world? She should have known that betrayal was real. She wished it came with warning as well.

The pain was so hard to bear, the feeling so foreign to her juvenile heart. A teenager at 15.

Being able to do nothing else, Aurora sunk on the ground of her bedroom, and burning tears cried the screams of rage and madness that her own hoarse voice couldn't produce.

Slowly taking out her diary, she started on her latest entree:

**Dear Diary,**

**I hate everything.**

* * *

Mallory couldn't follow after Aurora, neither did she want to. It was just like Stefan's flesh and blood to run at the first sight of responsibility.

Still, she needed the girl. She was her only hope of not suffering through another loveless marriage. Her only chance, in fact. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could find something about her that she actually liked.

Diaval just about caught up to her, after giving the signal for everyone to not follow Aurora.

"Mistress, that was a bit harsh." He admitted, looking worried towards the direction that the blonde had run off to.

Well, Mallory had to agree that she did just kind of press that information onto her. But she couldn't just not leave the sixteen year old information hanging in the air, now could she.

Though, she had to admit that seeing the pain in her blue eyes reminded her too much of someone else's pain that she had helped create cause so many long years ago.

"Yes. I suppose so."

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" She inquired with a layer of tasteless innocence.

He stared right at the queen, a glare that would have made others think that both had gone mad.

"...oh, now don't look so solemn, now, Diaval. Now, come" she waved her hand for him to follow her back inside the consulate. "I need your help."

Without another word, he obeyed her orders, wondering about the change in personality. Even though it seemed like joy built out of the cruelty and rudeness she treated others with, he liked the bright smile that perked up in her features for the first time in sixteen years.

He just wished what caused for her to smile so.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**

**I'm trying so hard to incorporate Mal's drastic changes into her 'cruel' persona as well as so many complicated mixed emotions, while trying to incorporate Diaval as well. Oh, well, someone can change dramatically in the course of years when facing abuse.**

**And trying to describe their sad/angry emotions can be so difficult!**

**Oh, well, until the next time,**

**Bookafashion**


	7. Chapter 7- An Arrangement Made

**Thanks to those who read, reviewed, favorited or followed my story!**

**Again, I unfortunately don't own Maleficent or The Princess Diaries concept idea (if I did this story would had already been in production).**

**Anyways, please enjoy!**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 7- An Arrangement Made

Black heels clicked along with a black cane against the pavement, cement and snow as Diaval shut the door behind his queen.

Queen Mallory Eleanor Moore looked out beyond the small two-story house that currently housed her niece and the three idiots who might have finally learned the difference between left and right.

The house itself was quaint, almost cottage like, and even looked more comfy and comforting with the woods surrounding the home tucked away from the rest of New York.

Oh, it's been a long time since she's visited.

Not much has changed. There was still that same evergreen smell, and of course, the faint fragrance of roses that are now put to rest for the icy season.

Footsteps were imprinted on the blanket of snow that covered the ground.

Mallory controlled her steps, and her black high heeled boots kicked the snow it walked on. Curse the shoes, curse the cane, and curse the tight black skirt she was wearing.

She rang the doorbell, and within seconds, Flittle answered the door, her hair tips still dyed that same shade of indigo blue.

Flora joined her a second later, and looked even less happy to see her. There was blue paint on both of them, but their angry features kept her from saying anything.

"What are you doing here?" Flora asked. Suddenly, she remembered to whom she was speaking to, and curtsied. Mallory cut her off.

"I'm here to see Aurora."

·

·

·

Mallory absorbed the house. It wasn't large, like the home, but it wasn't small either. It was quite cozy, with the walls being painted a light yellow, and furniture that fit within the color schemes of pink, green, and blue.

Though the color choice would annoy her inner dark queen, her young soul shined through, and smiled at the shades.

They offered her green tea, which she accepted.

But although she wanted to enjoy the hot drink, she couldn't quite do so with Flora staring angrily down her throat.

* * *

Aurora admired herself in the floor length mirror, before grabbing her bag. She petted Beauty on the way out, and tucked in her diary into her bag.

Stepping out, she almost tripped over the latest collection of paint brushes 'auntie' Flittle had gotten at an art trade show earlier this week, then there were a few blotches of pink and blue paint that ruined the floor (and Aurora would have to clean later).

Just because she was angry at her aunties didn't mean she didn't acknowledge them anymore. No, they still took care of her after almost 16 years, they at least have been there for her, whereas her godmother wasn't. God, she wished that she decided to stay away instead of throwing everything on top of her.

Even if she is the 'fairy godmother' she's been dreaming to meet, she just couldn't see her. A witch that tricked her, deceived her into thinking she was some sort of beautiful enchantress, while this whole time she was just some creepy stalker watching a child play from a few feet.

Aurora took a few steps down, before seeing the so claimed queen in her living room, drinking tea with her aunts.

"Oh, this is a nightmare" she groaned upon seeing all their faces. Now, she didn't care about being that cute bubbly, happy person she was. Now seeing all the liars of her life, all huddled together while watching Robin report with Amy by her side on T.v., as if Aurora's soul wasn't a victim of homicide by their lies. Disgusting. "...I'm going back to bed" Or were these just her teenage hormones overreacting? Whichever it was, she was angry.

"Wait, Aurora." Mallory stopped her from going anywhere. "We have to talk."

Aurora turned bitterly, all the sunshine in her soul gone, and replaced with nothing but pure bitterness. "Oh, was there something else you had kept hidden from me?"

"Aurora, manners." Aunt Flora reminded her.

The blonde nodded. "I apologize." She said, and her voice drenched with ill will.

She could hear Mallory let out a frustrated sigh before beginning her next sentence. "Yesterday did not go as I expected..."

"Well, you can't exactly throw that sort of news on someone!" Aurora protested.

The queen took a moment's breath, almost frustrated, before coming to. "Yes, I do admit the news was rather..."

Surprising? Messed up? C'mon, you can't just tell someone they're a princess and not expect a reaction.

"...inconvenient." She finished.

Inconvenient? Please. She could think of so many words that could describe the situation, yet none strung together a word that meant 'I just found out I've been lied to my whole life, as well as a princess!' This just didn't happen to normal people like her. Or any normal person in fact.

"But I must tell you that you're the only legal and eligible heir to the throne."

Aurora paused in freight. Being princess was one thing, but being the next possible queen...? Her fingers bit into the fabric of the couch, keeping her from falling, or stabbing them into her own skin.

Mallory continued. "Now, trust me when I say that with a lot of practice..."

"Practice?" Aurora exclaimed.

"Yes, practice. Princess training could be another term for it, but with the right amount of time and guidance, you will be prepared to take over my kingdom!" She replied, with too much confidence.

Alright, she needed a minute to figure things out. So the woman who was a queen of a small country, as well as her aunt, decided to take a trip down here all the way to New York, just so she can force power into her hands? Her, a girl who was months away from reaching the age of sixteen?

Well, there must be someone else more...more meant for this type of responsibility. Someone who's been training their whole life for this. Not a simple school newspaper writer.

Trying to look for excuses, she blurted out "Don't you have any children of your own?"

There was a brief flash of sadness in Mallory's eyes, making them almost look so dull before they returned to their ever sharp cold gleam. A gleam that was so familiar.

Her aunties looked like they almost fainted, never having to have handled so much rudeness.

Aurora suddenly regretted her words, not knowing what the queen's situation is.

Thankfully, the older woman didn't spend so much time answering that, as she exhaled a "No" in a voice so sharp, it threatened Aurora from saying anything again.

A long pause took place of their talking, before Mallory picked up where she left off, before she was rudely interrupted by her husband's daughter.

"There's to be a ball." Mallory continued, avoiding the awkward situation that just took place. "The Independence day ball, which will take place ten days pass of the first day of spring." She stood, and shifted her weight on the walking stick she carried, and walked herself over to the door. Before she could leave, she snarled "then, you can make your decision."

Once she shut the door, with her nose high in the air, Aurora turned to look at her aunties, all with disapproving looks on their faces.

"Why such rude manner, young lady?" Aunt Flora asked in a tone she'd never heard her use. "You must go out their, and apologize!"

"You've all lied to me!"

"Not an excuse! You've must apologize to the queen!"

They're right. Just because they lied didn't mean she had to result in such behavior. 'This woman was your mother's sister' the blonde reminded herself. You couldn't be any closer than sisters.

Besides, she didn't want to be executed to be talking to a queen in that type of manner. Death by guillotine wouldn't suit her.

"I have to get to school." She called, and headed out the door.

* * *

Mallory stormed out angrily, she could swear the snow fell with her emotions, as each snowflake sunk harshly in a dangerous rhythm.

As the snow piled up, she remembered something; curse the heels. The damn things couldn't even stand without wobbling underneath her weight!

She was just about to call Diaval over to help her when she heard someone call.

"Hey!" Aurora called, running behind her.

Mallory turned as best she could, giving the young girl an icy glare, but Aurora appeared unfazed by it, and the teen's rosy cheeks blushed even more through the winter air.

The queen tugged on the fringes of her black scarf, raised the fabric to wrap around her head to cover her hair from snow.

"What did you mean about a decision?" Aurora asked. Her head covered in by a pink beanie, and light blue gloves covered her fingers.

Why did everything about this girl remind her of Leila? The way she held herself, the colors she wore, the voice she used when confused. "I apologize, but do you actually care? Back there you didn't!" Mallory confirmed, trying not to concentrate on Aurora's bright blue eyes that Leila once owned.

"I didn't know I had a choice, based on how you carried your information." The girl quipped.

"Well you do," Mallory said, rather impressed by her witty remark. She might actually like the girl. "I wouldn't force anything upon you without your consent."

She saw Aurora contemplate this for a moment, as if she'd just learned a valuable life lesson. Leila would bear the same expression when exposed to new knowledge.

'Your sister is gone!' Mallory reminded herself. She shouldn't try to mold Leila into Stefan's daughter. Instead, the queen tried searching for the bad things in the girl. How she would pull on a lock of hair when nervous. Bite her bottom lip, all things Mallory...did herself.

She was distracting herself on the tiniest details, why should she care?

The girl was only part of a plan she had hatched. She's only using her. Only using her. Only...

"Anyways," The queen continued carrying out her sentence, realizing that she was just staring off into oblivion, "Since you do have the choice-"

"I'll do it." Aurora interrupted.

"What?"

"I'll attend the princess lessons. I'll allow you to prep me up, teach me to waltz, whatever you wish!" The blonde declared, bared the confident strike wonderfully.

Mallory blinked in confusion. It couldn't really have been that easy! Could it? No, the girl was practically clawing her words out earlier with impressive sarcasm. Though she hated being caught up with the trick of manipulation, she was desperate. Whatever reasons the child hid for such a quick mind change, Mallory had her own as well.

Raising a perfect eyebrow, she agreed, and allowed Aurora to trail behind her.

Both making their way to Diaval, who was freezing through the thick winter air, Mallory couldn't contain smile that was so mischievous, some might call her sadistic. But no. It was the fact that such a vain man was letting his so called beautiful self suffer in the cold. Oh now that was amusing.

Smirking, she introduced him. "Aurora, this is my servant, Diaval." Her eyes and ears, really.

Aurora nodded cheerfully, and Diaval being the surprising man he was, he reached for Aurora's hand, and pressed his lips to her knuckles, and her niece's smile never went astray.

Her servant winked at Mallory, while she rolled her eyes. 'Since are you such a gentleman?' Mallory wondered.

The man with obsidian hair held the door open, offering his hand for both women to take, and both accepted.

"Where off to?" Diaval asked, his fingers curving around the wheel.

Mallory turned to look at Aurora.

The blonde tried to hold herself calm next to the intimidating woman and breathed "School."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! **

**Sorry for the wait, I was hoping to post****this weeks ago, but I've been busy, and had never gotten around to finishing this.**

**Mallory's middle name is Eleanor in reference to Maleficent's original voice actress, Eleanor Audley**

**Anyways, thank you again, and bye! Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 8- The Mad King

**I was not sure on how to write this chapter, and originally, it was to be a continuation of chapter 7, but while I was at home sick, I remembered a conversation I had with a friend a few weeks earlier (so I have you, D., to thank) about theories and ideas. We even went as far as to talk about the complication of the characters. She got me thinking of Stefan's character, and how we don't really know much about the guy (at least in this story). Then it came to me: I haven't properly introduced him. So ladies and gentlemen, I present:**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 8 - The Mad King

"Are you always this serious?" Aurora had asked her on the way to school.

Mallory had her hands folded perfectly on her lap, and her sharp nails had dug into her knuckles, trying to distract the pain of awkwardness with a different one.

She looked up at the young girl, who was clearly trying to make some conversation.

Mallory was stuck between answers. She wanted to be honest, but she also wanted to appear regal. She was here on a mission, not to make friends with the girl she had managed to avoid (or at least tried to, anyways) from a distance.

"Why would you want an answer to that?." She responded unintentionally. Mallory gazed out the window, avoiding her gaze.

She felt Aurora shift down her seat in boredom. Clearly, she wasn't pleased with the answer.

The queen felt even more awkward, and guilty, asking a rude question to a pleading mind. Thinking, she could find times that she acted less of a queen, and more of a regular woman. Simple things, like gardening her plants. And singing that special song her mother used to sing as a lullaby.

"No." She said, continuing to stare out into the city of New York, seeing mothers walk with their kin. And young couples sharing their admiration for each other. "Not always, at least."

Aurora allowed for that information to sink in before the curves of her lips tugged, yearning a smile, all the surprises of her being royalty forgotten.

Mallory saw the smile. The silly questions, and the stressless thoughts. Okay, maybe, just maybe. She wasn't a copy of Stefan.

* * *

On another continent the kingdom of Moreise stood. The king, Stefan, had the dozens of servants away from his private office that was tucked away in the darkest hall of the grand castle.

The king sat there silently, contemplating the things he has done in the past. A lot of abuse he had to go through for him to move from ranking to ranking. Abuse he had a woman he once loved go through, to prove himself worthy of a crown.

Now, he hurt her for relief. Relief from stress, from his madness. Relief from anger. Hell, he even hurt her to prove his dominance in the relationship. And of course she couldn't escape him. No, divorce would be like genocide to her.

He took a drink. Drinking was the only way for him to relieve his stress when Mallory was gone away for business. Or wherever she was.

He drank some more.

The room contained many things. Newspaper articles that had any mention of the royal couple. Empty bottles of alcoholic beverages. Pills. Money. Jewelry stolen from the royal treasury. Documents. Photographs.

He set his eyes on the thing that drove him mad each day.

An iron dagger that was covered in blood which he kept in a plastic bag, next to the iron chain.

The blood was now most likely dry, but it served as a prize. A reminder of what he's done to become king.

The King Henry from Ganancia had called it a prize anyways.

And an even greater award for his crime was a higher position in life. From a simple poor beggar, to a servant working for the king, to a false duke created by Henry, and now a mad king.

Stefan smiled almost statistically, when he heard a knock.

"Enter!" He commanded. He only knew of one man who dared to enter the king's private quarters, and that man came strolling in.

"What brings you so deep into the castle?" Stefan asked.

"Nothing, Stef-" The man stopped midway, as the king had glared at him in warning. "King Stefan." The man corrected.

The king acknowledged the man now that he had skipped passed the formal introductions.

"I was just coming to check in on you, making sure that everything is in line."

Stefan held his hand to silence him. "Where is my wife?"

"The queen? Ah, yes. She's off in the U.S. with her private staff for business."

This gotten the king's attention. Mallory hasn't mentioned anything else but a business trip.

"What for?" Stefan asked.

"She didn't exactly say. The queen just sort of...fled."

The king considered this for a moment. "Alright. You did your job, Jafar." He said. To him, there are many uses for a council man. One of the many is keeping the queen in check.

Anyway, something else entered his thoughts. Mallory fled. Or if nothing else left for whatever she needed to go to. A solitary taste of opportunity could influence her to resist him. She could really take a position against him whenever he even set out to lay a finger on her. At the same time, she just deserved it! She did nothing to deserve the life she has. She's useless enough, to the point where she can't conceive a child! The greatest attribute of a woman, and she can't even do so. Anyways, besides that, a man has the right to discipline his wife. And he did have his reasons.

But if she became too comfortable...oh he couldn't allow for her to escape him.

"Also, Jafar?" Stefan inquired. "Send blossoms to the queen, and make sure they're sent to her as quick as possible." He included. All things considered, a most ideal approach to keep a lady was by showering her with gifts. Help persuade them that their husband truly loved them. And it wasn't like he had anything to be guilty for. It wasn't his fault. It was Mallory's for being unsupportive. It was Mallory's fault for being so weak and not being able to stand up for herself. It wasn't his fault.

* * *

Mallory came back to the consulate hours after going around town, making sure everything is prepared for the state dinner that will take place next month with Rosetta, who already had confirmed a few of the guests that accepted their invitation.

Diaval was out, for unknown reasons, so another had to substitute in his place to drive both women.

As soon as she stepped into the living room, she noticed a bouquet of white roses that stood out against the green furniture.

She glanced at them. A note was also attached. Two fingers swiftly picked the note, only to earn a paper cut through her skin.

It was just a sting to her compared to what she had to endure at home.

The queen scanned the small letter, and it was from who she expected it to be from-Stefan.

Just a weak apology, a comment about how his admiration for her is still true, and the usual.

It was a cycle. Stefan would always hit her, or violate her, or both. Abuse her verbally, physically. Then guilt got to him. He would blame her. Feel guilty at points. Then shower her with gifts, thinking that all would go well, before he repeated it all over.

The paper cut was almost ironic now. Almost like he could hurt her when he wasn't even with her.

But nevertheless, the blossoms were lovely.

She reached out to one, only to end up staining the petals with her blood.

So it was true. Every pure thing she touched she would destroy.

She exhaled heavily.

Mallory looked up at the mirror that hung on the wall she faced when she saw another rose already thriving healthily in a vase.

She turned. A single red rose was in a glass vase already filled with water. At first, the queen thought it was another from Stefan, but when she neared it, a note read: _For a intimidating woman from a beautiful man.- D.B._

She almost laughed. 'Vain man' she thought. Bad at complimenting women as well. 'Must be an inner bird thing' she thought, happy that for the first time, she received a flower that wasn't sent with an apology.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed it as usual, even if it was a bit simple and short in my opinion, but it was needed.**

**And the scene at the end was meant to support relationships, so I apologize if anything seems too forced.**

**And in other news, Maleficent will have its one year anniversary in a few days, so I'm hoping to be able to update on that day or at least post a one shot, because this film has actually affected me in many ways, and opened my eyes to important issues regarding women rights.**

**Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and I want to thank my friend (hoping you know who you are) for inspiring me.**


	9. Chapter 9- Think Before You Speak

**Yay! It's been one year since Maleficent came out, and I can't tell you guys enough of how much this movie impacted me so much that I was reduced to writing fanfiction.**

**Happy one year anniversary!**

**So as promised, here's chapter 8.**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 9 - Think Before You Speak

Aurora twirled her plastic fork carefully through the lettuce leaves and red cherry tomatoes, as a sad look was painted on her features.

It wasn't the first day she'd been acting so...depressed. in fact, this behavior had made an appearance through her earlier in the week, ever since she had found out about her true heritage.

She had smiled less around others. Talked less, ate less...and this behavior went unnoticed. Well, except from her friends, who wished to know what could have possibly provoked her happiness.

Mulan and Belle watched as Aurora concentrated more on playing with her food than actually eating it.

"Rora?" Mulan called the nickname cautiously, waiting for a reaction out of the blonde.

"Hm?" Aurora's voice piped, but she still wasn't looking up.

The blonde could tell that they were both worried, and she let them be. It was just that...there were so many questions she had about her mother, but she just couldn't form them into proper questions to ask.

"Are you okay?" The ebony haired girl asked, and Belle actually put her book down to help.

Aurora nodded, letting her utensil fall in with salad. She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously, trying to come up with a lie to tell.

"Uh..." she had started nervously, never having been a good liar. She reached into her bag, searching for something, anything really, to help support the untruth that was just about to leave her lips. She pulled out the first thing that her fingers could tug out. Her copy of the Romeo and Juliet script. "...I am just really worried about the...play!" She announced, flipping to a random highlighted page.

Belle's eyes perked, and she reached out to quickly scan over the script for what seemed about the millionth time.

"Now why would you stress about this?" The brunette asked, "I've seen you practice this, and you'll be fine! Even Papa agreed that night you came over"

Aurora shrugged, happy that they're convinced. Well at least distracted. Mulan still appeared unsure, with her shoulders hunched, her brows creased, and a worried look on her face. All the signs indeed.

Not wanting anyone to worry, she smiled a false smile, hiding the emptiness she felt inside, and the questions she yearned to ask.

·

·

·

The drama period went as normal, students practicing their lines with partners, while Ms. Carroll prepped her daughter as best as she could for the auditions.

Not that it mattered anyway, since Aurora was 99.9% sure that the woman was going to give Vanessa the role anyway. 0.1% still had hope for the spineless teacher.

Aurora continued reading the lines from Romeo's point of view, while Vanessa played her opposite. Both girls had proved to be powerful in the positions they played, but like mother like daughter, both Carrolls' were as self observed as the other.

Eventually class ended, and Aurora had already made her way out the door to find Diaval.

She pressed the straps of her backpack tightly against her shoulders, and she buried her face behind a curtain of blonde locks to avoid human contact.

Honestly, the past few days have been tiresome. She is quite scared, she had to admit. Ruling a kingdom...she did have quite a few fears in life, like dying. Or being under an eternal sleep, which she had to admit wasn't as realistic as the first fear, but she did have smaller ones. Talking to boys could be one, she's always so painfully shy when around one. Another could be not being able to find happiness again. And right now, she was afraid that she had reached that point.

She continued walking, and then she saw Diaval at the driver's seat. Now, she hasn't known him for quite long, but she already knew he was an all around nice guy. He was the only part of this whole royalty thing that she liked. Aurora was sure that he trusted her enough, because the other day, he had made a quick (as he called it, but an hour is definitely not quick) stop at Flower's Flower Shop. Of course the skunk obsessed man had to move all his flowers in his indoor garden so they wouldn't die out in the winter, and of course, Diaval was impressed by the other man's gardening skills as well as the flowers themselves.

He waved, and she waved back, already skipping to him, when she heard two girls call out "Aurora!"

'Not again,' she thought and turned. Belle and Mulan were as distressed as a damsel who was in need of saving, which was ironic since they could actually protect themselves pretty well.

"Aurora," Belle started, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We've been asking you if you're alright, but..."

"I'm fine!" Aurora protested, looking back at Diaval, who was now looking concerned, but tried his best to hide it. It was explained to her that he wasn't really supposed to meddle with her personal affairs.

"You're lying, you never talk back, it's not in your nature." Aurora silently cursed, feeling stupid for arguing with the intelligent one.

"It's true. My godfather, Mushu, would dishonor you." Mulan commented.

"Like he did you..."

"What was that?"

"Nothing." Aurora raised her hands in defense, stepping away. God, lately she's been speaking faster than she could think.

"That's what we mean!" Belle proved just then, clutching the book in her hands. "Aurora, is everything okay?"

The blonde sighed deeply, realizing that she could explode if she continued concealing her emotions. "It's the auditions, I told you."

"Oh, I'm well as sure it's not the play, having it being the only thing you could talk about these past few months."

She tugged on a lock of her hair, bit her bottom lip. 'Think before you speak, think before you speak...' she chanted in her head.

"Well what is it?"

Aurora turned to face her friends, feeling confident in entrusting them with her deepest secret, but then she stopped herself. If she reacted badly to the news of her secret heritage, how would her friends act? Would they treat her differently, or the same? Would they praise her for this outrageous fact, or would they just brush it off like a common cold? No doubt they would react.

"Well, you see..." 'Think before you speak' "My, um...Godmother is actually in town, and, uh...well she's my aunt, actually, but..." Oh why did she say 'godmother'? Now there was going to be even more questions, having never had a single distant family member come and visit. Well, she wished for family company, and instead a kingdom was sent her way.

Belle and Mulan perked up. "What? You have another aunt?" The bookworm inquired. Both her friends knew that her 'aunties' were her self-claimed, only living relatives. What a lie that turned out to be.

Aurora tried to shy away, and she nodded. "Yeah, um, she got me a driving chaperon," she awkwardly inputted, referring to Diaval, who was trying his best to concentrate on the unmoving vehicle.

"Well isn't that something." Mulan shrugged. "is she an aristocrat, or something?" She insisted.

Aurora watched her friends laugh lightly, as she added her own awkward chuckle into the situation. 'You have no idea.' The blonde wanted to say, but couldn't.

After a while, Aurora noticed moments had gone by, without her speaking to her friends, and now they had shared their first laugh in days. She smiled. "Do you guys want a ride?" She offered, and they took it.

Diaval was already outside, and he had held the door open like a gentleman.

Aurora stood quietly, praying that he wouldn't mention anything about her family's line.

When Diaval had introduced himself as Aurora's poor unfortunate chaperon, which he had meant as a joke.

The ride was painfully awkward, just ignoring everything that has happened the past week, and instead focusing on what she had before everything else; friends.

Also she focused on that flower! Being curious, she hasn't thought about anything else but who could be Diaval's current infatuation. Whether be it a man or woman, she was desperate for the answer. But her friends were number one on her list.

He drove them home, they thanked him and left, and he was busy driving Aurora back to hers, when she asked curiously "So did she like it?"

That remark almost caused a painfully ugly accident, as he had moved the steering wheel faster than he should have, and almost missed the breaks. A sweat broke on his face, and he had checked to make sure Aurora was okay. She was.

"What are you talking about?" He inquired worriedly, keeping his eyes on the snow covered roads of New York.

The blonde shrugged. "The flower you admired the other day. When we were stuck in traffic, you thought it was best to stop by that small florist shop. There, you saw a flower. And you bought it."

Diaval smirked. "Ah yes, I can now recall that moment." He could now, at what he had written in that letter.

"So did she like it?"

"Did you ever hear of the phrase 'curiosity killed the cat' , princess?"

Aurora suddenly took interest in her nails. He was avoiding the issue. He almost had completely rejected her question, and he's now avoiding it. If her instincts were right, he could tell that he has fallen for someone. Men don't go out of flowershops and return back with a single rose, without someone in mind.

The blonde continued smiling for the longest time this week, as she tried distracting herself from the concept of romance. Concentrating on the strange event from just a few days earlier certainly did help take away the pain she ached from their lies. But she didn't blame Diaval for her family troubles.

She straightened her posture, intimidating her aunt. "I've been told many times in fact." She finally answered, sinking into the seat. "Though I am not the official princess yet." We still have to wait. 'I don't even know if I want to be the princess!', Aurora thought.

"Good point." He responded, watching out for civilians, and snow.

Another moment slipped in of silence. It was killing Aurora, having been in this state for quite a few days now certainly didn't help her relieve from it. No, she was mad at her four aunties. Not Diaval.

She leaned forward, trying to get the man's attention. "So Diaval, do you have a girlfriend?"

That created another near accident. "What?"

"Does anybody hold your fancy, I mean."

Diaval shrunk back into his seat, regretting to having made friends with Aurora. "No." He answered simply. He could already tell that answer wouldn't suffice, if she was anything like the queen.

"Well, surely someone must have received the flower."

He didn't answer, and his silence was the answer. There was someone! Oh, but she just had to discover who it was.

He turned, and pulled up into the curb.

"Well, here's your stop, Aurora." He was just about to get out of the car to open the door when Aurora stopped him.

"It's alright, I'll do it."

He nodded without another argument. "Alright, so right after school tomorrow, your training begins, with your aunt."

Aurora nodded. "Don't worry, I remembered."

She took a step outside, and a breeze hit her. She looked back at Diaval, who was staring back at her with cautious eyes, a look that she's seen other fathers give to their daughters when being wary of their questions.

Well, she wouldn't know anyways. She never had a father-or even uncle, stand by her side as she took her first steps, or never having had attended the father-daughter dances back in grade school.

Aurora looked back at Diaval, and a fatherly glow surrounded him in her eyes. She blinked then, reminding herself that she had just befriended the man a few days ago, and he was her aunt's servant anyways.

But still wanting to remember of the face no one ever gave her, she took out her camera, lifted it to her eye until it focused on Diaval, and pushed the button that took the picture. She heard the click. She smiled.

"Until tomorrow." Aurora said, and bowed her head. In her head, she thanked him for distracting her of her new life's worries.

He returned the gesture by bowing back, and repeated her words.

The blonde ran back to her house, but before entering her home, she turned, and waved to Diaval.

He waved back.

* * *

**Well hope you dears enjoyed this fairly simple chapter.**

**I didn't own anything except the writing.**

**Anyhow, we'll explode into the main plot in the next chapter, which is exciting because we'll finally get to see the princess training, flashbacks, and a very classy Mal.**

**But yay, thank you for putting up with these short simple chapters I've been posting lately. I guess I'm mostly using them to build relationships and character, but oh well.**

**Hopefully, Summer will be like this explosion of chapter after chapter, or I'll update weekly.**

**See you next time!**


	10. Chapter 10- Lesson Number One

**There really is no excuse for me to be posting this so late, and I apologize. This was long overdue unfortunately. I hope you all had great holidays &amp; were happy, and I'm sorry if you aren't right now, but I do hope you will find your geatest happiness.**

**Thank you for reading my rushed intro, here my chapter!**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 10- Lesson Number One

**Dear Diary,**

**Last time you've heard from me, I had decided to agree upon an arrangement my fairy godmother, had made.**

**So while today is going to be my first princess lesson, I'm a wreck.**

**Never before in my life has the thought of me possibly being royalty crossed my mind. And now, it's thrown in my face!**

**Though I'm still very upset with my godmother, but she's the sister of my mother, so this could be the closest thing to actually physically having my mother by my side.**

**Ugh, right now I'm a mess. To be more organized, here's a list of things I have to do:**

**·Attend Princess lessons**

**·Audition for Juliet (WHICH ARE TODAY!)**

**·Study for finals**

**·Finish newspaper article on Romeo &amp; Juliet**

Aurora quickly snapped a few pictures on her Polaroid.

Both Alice and her officially agreed to cover a full report on the theatre production, Alice was writing, Aurora was photographing. This task was taken on by them as soon as Aurora returned home yesterday, and invited her friend to partner up; mostly meant as an apology for ditching her the other day, but also as another distraction from her problems.

While Alice was already drafting her first paragraph, Aurora was prepping for her performance. Having a drama teacher like Ms. Carroll of course meant in character auditions.

All girls wore flowing dresses or modest costumes set for the time era, while the guys were their own Prince Charming or the story character Robin Hood.

Aurora herself was wearing a flowing blue dress, a renaissance type, and small silver and gold flowers charms were braided into her hair. Despite it being a frosty winter and any breeze that entered the backstage area would cause her to shiver, she felt perfectly fine.

She's lying.

She was a nervous wreck all day, picking at her fingernails or biting her lip.

The backstage helpers the drama teacher had recruited from an intern's agency were ushering all the students, making sure they were in proper order from first to last name.

Since her birth certificate had "Rose" as her legal last name here in the states, that meant her audition would not only serve till near the end, but extend throughout a little over school hours.

The stage manager led the students out into the auditorium, giving them chance to settle into seats, Alice with arms full of paper and bags, Aurora reread the script under the dim lights as the auditionees took their turns to recite each scene precisely.

Currently, Gaston was having it, being rather impressive, having everyone swooning.

Only if he was modest as he was cocky.

Vanessa seemed to enjoy it. Smiling and all, too proud of the outcomes of her audition.

Several students went up until the stage manager called for the next student; Aurora trudged up the stage, nervous but still excited. She looked to the audience only to face a bright light.

She exhaled.

"I'll be performing Juliet's monologue , act four, scene three." She heard a few pages flip to follow along with her.

Confidently, she held up two of the various props that were available to everyone throughout the try outs-a simple plastic dagger and an empty flask. Putting both aside for now, she started.

"Farewell!—Heaven knows when we shall meet again.— I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, That almost freezes up the heat of life; I 'll call them back again to comfort me." Aurora called waving to an imaginary person as if they just left for the curtains. She used the first lines to set the mood for the angst to come.

She continued through the next. "Nurse!—What should she do here? My dismal scene I needs must act alone." She sank her knees to the stage floor and picked up the flask she had sat down earlier. "Come phial,- what if this mixture do not work at all?" She eyed at the empty glass, almost in doubt like she imagined Juliet would have done.

"Shall I of force be married to the count?" She gave herself a pause of reluctance, again imagining herself in Juliet's place.

"No, no-" she eyed the other prop with thoughtfulness in her quick glance. "...this shall forbid it." She gently sat down the flask, and with her other hand drew the fake dagger by its handle.

"lie thou there." Aurora recited, having missed the last bell of the day, and played it off as charming music that she allowed to fit into the scene. She lay down the dagger.

As Juliet, she put suicide into consideration, if it would all be worth it in the end. Nothing can be worth more than true love, right? Giving up your happiness to please and honor your duty would basically be the right to your execution since your heart isn't speaking a voice into this. But fearing the unknown so that you may be able to love again or continue loving can also drive you away from your goal if you continue.

She carried on the scene, and the light's flash dimmed the more she got used to it. That's when she noticed that Belle and Mulan were supporting her in the crowds of dozens as they eagerly leaned in, Belle appearing happy with her acting.

Aurora tried hard not to break out of character for smiling. 'I'm actually decent!' She thought happily.

Almost reaching the end, she spoke each line as clearly as she understood old English (which was actually pretty well), and reached her conclusion.

"Or, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, environed with all these hideous fears, and madly play with my forefathers' joints?" Aurora nearly cried of fear. Acting of course. But she figured out the character's thoughts quickly. A usually optimistic person seeing everything from a pessimist's point of view is something she definitely relate to at the moment.

She held up the flask once more, and wandered off to another imaginary person. "Oh, look! Methinks I see my cousin's ghost seeking out Romeo:- Stay Tybalt, stay!" Aurora warned.

And that was when Aurora heard the doors swing open, letting in a golden light shine from the school hallways instead of the blank pale one that's been shining in the blonde's face for the past few minutes.

Aurora passed it off, and gently spoke, "Romeo, I come; this do I drink to thee.—" She raised the vial to her lips and pretended to drink its invisible contents.

She kept her gaze steadied on the bright light, almost as if allowing Juliet's known fate to take her in.

Following the golden light, came a pale man in black clothes, with snow sprinkled in his dark hair.

He turned and looked at Aurora and that was when she broke character.

Her reaction faltered, suddenly remembering Aunt Mallory. The Queen of Moreise. And her princess lessons. Is there some sort of penalty for ditching the queen for your own needs?

Paying attention to Ms. Carroll and her acquaintances for the first time, they seemed concerned about her well being, some even turning back to see what got her so tangled up, and a few students even caught up to it.

Determined to finish through, she averted her direction from Diaval's, who seemed just as confused as everyone else was. Most likely seeing his charge on stage in a dress.

Aurora felt a blush creeping up on her already rosy cheeks. "O, potent ...potent draught, thou h-hast chilled me to the... heart !—" She stuttered. "My head turns round ;—my senses fail me." She said almost breathlessly. Already she has suffered embarrassment. Now quoting her reaction? And oh lord was she wheezing?

Already having heard a few snickers from the crowd, her determination regained inside, and she cried out "— O, Romeo! Romeo !—" And allowed her upper body to drop.

Applause was let out just like the few others, but a bit more enthusiasm was heard through each clap, and she knew only a few select people received this much.

Aurora politely gave a small courtesy, and trampled down the stage stairs. She pulled back her belongings from Alice, and she knew all three had questions that they couldn't properly voice rushing through their heads.

Her sudden rush out of the place seemed to have raised many eyebrows, but soon their attention returned once the stage manager called out "Next!"

* * *

"She's late!" Mallory declared. Her pacing stopped.

Rosetta stopped as well. "Well, your highness. She is a teenager."

"But she knew that she was supposed to come today!" The queen's shoulders hitched forward. What if the girl decided that she didn't even want to give her true given life a chance? That girl was the only heir alive! And she didn't have any other appealing choices. Birthing her own was out of the question, and giving the crown to Ganancia wasn't something she was keen on doing.

But what could be so important? When she was Aurora's age, she was being charmed by a young man who was to lead her downfall. "Besides," The queen turned to look to her sister's portrait. "what could be more important?"

Rosetta decided to give up, knowing how sometimes the queen could be, single minded. Stubborn at best.

"Rosetta," The queen asked her assistant. "Has Finch tried to contact us yet?" Jeffrey Finch was the head of the royal press secretary and has acted as Mallory's personal publicist on more than one occasion.

The redhead shook her head. "No madame. Though Ms. Pea did leave a message this morning." Bonnie Pea was the co-head director in the program.

"And what did she say?"

"She wondered if any of the media agencies have found out of you being here."

"Well as far as I'm concerned, no camera flash has graced my presence." The queen responded sarcastically.

"And that's how I responded."

Mallory gave a smile of approval. "Very well, now where is that girl?"

"Oh, your majesty." Rosetta cooed in a teasing tone. "Aurora might just be hanging back in the library. Why, when I was in high school, my friends, Tink and Silver...or was it Mist? Well. Whatever we called her, used to make me study extra hours after school hours to make sure I don't fall behind." She then continued to proceed about her experiences.

It was actually refreshing. Having grown up with tutors, and absolutely no friends, well besides the palace staff. And Leila. And another has been. Speaking of which, where is their daughter?

But Mallory was only half listening though.

She heard a small commotion coming from the parlor of the building, soon the quick steps trailing behind it.

And who was the cause of this? Just her fifteen year old goddaughter who was dressed in a pale Grecian style dress, and flowers that were braided into her hair.

"Sorry I'm late!" Aurora gasped her apologies.

Mallory now, couldn't be furious towards the girl, now that her mind was distracted by the picture of Aurora's interpretation of...what was it? A princess? A goddess? 'Should I weep now?' The queen asked herself. Was she destined to prepare the future queen while she played dress up as if she was a child?

"What are you wearing?" Was all she could make out from her throat.

Aurora looked down at the dress, and brushed the snow from its soft fabric, "Oh, this was for a school thing." She answered in a voice that betrayed her by revealing that this 'school thing' was more important than its meant to sound.

Mallory shrugged the strange tone off. No reason to waste no more time by asking questions she could figure out later. She stood to her full height, and Rosetta followed in that suit. Together, both women guided the nervous teen to her office (of course, Mallory didn't touch or acknowledge her).

Rosetta shut the the doors behind her, and allowed privacy apart from the rest, and set down the queen's notes on the study.

Mallory drummed her fingers over her dark mahogany desk, reading over the instructions she had carefully planned out for today. She raised her bad foot slightly so it wouldn't feel as pressed against the hard wood floors.

"Good afternoon, Aurora." She announced like a school teacher welcoming the day to her class. Prepared and organized with a lesson plan in mind.

Her niece politely returned the salutation, titling her as "Godmother".

She tilted her head. "How would you greet me properly?" Mallory asked, turning gently on her good foot.

Aurora was taken aback, not understanding their was a certain way she should greet her aunt. After all they are family. Maybe since she's a queen, there might be a more formal way of doing so?

She dipped into a slight bow, pinching the cool colored fabric of her costume.

Mallory instantly found flaws in every curve she would spy.

Her right foot wasn't behind the left, her knees weren't bent into a curtsy, the sentiment was too quick and would rather appear impolite at a social gathering; these were things that mattered to a person of nobility.

She clicked her tongue, and took a deep breath. It appeared it would be much simpler to get rid of all flaws before beginning anything else, she thought through her eyes.

Making adjustments to posture, teaching her ways out of that callow state she's comfortable in, confirm to make sure that those "clothes" weren't to be seen worn again. Well at least in her presence. As well as in front of the other diplomats. Or just anywhere, with anyone.

Yes, the queen could picture the perfect princess the girl could become, under her training.

Smiling a Cheshire smile, she allowed for Rosetta to arrange Aurora into the better curtsy.

They redid the greeting, where the teen only wobbled on her knees slightly this time, and it was dragged on a tad too long, but it certainly did better than the one before it. They'll work on it.

The phone rang. Rosetta quickly went to pick it up, and Mallory directed Aurora's eyes to the bookshelves behind her desk.

Her fingers delicately traced across the spines of each novel, then pulled out three books, and stacked them on top each other with one arm.

With an eye glance, the teen quickly caught on, and took the stack from Mallory.

She then ordered, "I want you to read all of these, doesn't matter when you finish them, just as long as you finish by March."

"Why?" Aurora's doe eyes widened with question.

Rosetta held the telephone to her shoulder, "Ma'am, it's the prime minister, Clarion."

The queen gave the waved the girl off, then accepted the call from the prime minister.

"Good afternoon, prime minister." She greeted, leaning back into her office chair.

"The afternoon, dear? It's barely two hours past midnight!"

"Time differences." She then frowned deeply. "Why are you calling so late at night?"

Mallory could hear Clarion's tired sighs through the other end. "I actually meant to call three days earlier, but a few meetings with the council actually got in my way."

"Oh?" How is the council?

"Anyways, I've noticed that your stay in New York has extended to over a week?"

"The problem?"

"Your vacations there never last that long."

"I'm sorry, but I've never said this was a vacation."

"Then what word should be to describe your situation?"

"Private matters. Business."

"And what work would you need to settle in New York? It wasn't in your schedule."

"It's private matters, I told you, Clarion. I'll tell you when I believe its time. Besides, I have almost all forms and files with me."

"I respect your wishes, but you'll indeed have to tell me sooner. It isn't right for a queen to be out of the country for too long."

"I'm sure they won't miss me too much."

"And the media? Cameras could soon be flashing at the mention of your name." you mean my title?

"And why worry? I've done this before. And accomplished it without getting caught."

"You have, but it all was accomplished in less than a week. You are now over a week. How long are you planning on staying?"

"Until March."

There was a pause, "You have duties here, Mallory."

"And what are they? Besides standing next to a fool because the council doesn't even allow me so much as to even voice an opinion in private."

"Mallory…"

"What does that say about my importance? I keep everything together for them to only reject my help! It's obvious they won't accept me despite my natural line."

"They're the council. Your council. They are our serving congress, a government for Moreise."

"And I am their queen."

She hung up, falling into the comfortable leather of the chair that hid behind her desk. Sighing like always when the world turned against her.

But there were other things to worry about.

Aurora had patiently waited, and her fingers were skimming through the pages with her eyes. At the distant and angle, perhaps the lighting too, she looked like Leila. Strands of hair tucked behind an ear, pale long dresses, and a book in hand.

"Presentation is everything. Work on your posture. Study the characters, take in their actions. Look up to them." Mallory explained with a cleared throat.

With that she dismissed her, but not before she added, "And don't let that be part of your wardrobe."

Aurora acknowledged her comment with a nod, embarrassed slightly but she understood and left with Diaval.

There left the crown princess, Aurora.

* * *

**At this rate, Im'm not certain when I'll post the next chapter. This one has just been rewritten so many times...**

**I'm truly sorry for making so many of you wait for this story, and I'm currently in the process of rewriting some of the chapters (nothing too dramatic), and organizing all my thoughts for this fanfiction. I'm definitely not going to abandon it since I am a bit too attached to this storyline now, and I do think I'm growing as a writer.**

**Thank you to those who took the time to read this. It took me more than I wanted to finish, but I was motivated by my mind and readers to finish this, as it turns out, it's been a year since I first posted this story.**

**Thank you.**


	11. Chapter 11- May She Endure

**Alright I'm back with the next chapter, and I actually enjoyed writing it, so I'm happy to finally be able to present it.**

**I'm really sorry for ditching a few of you for the few months I didn't update, I'm honestly very tired of many things, but this story was always on my mind, with you guys in my thoughts.**

**Anyways I finished this at 1:29 in the morning, which is the time everything seems to come together in my life, so here it is.**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 11- May She Endure

Mallory was hunched behind her desk, a finger tracing a stone.

Reading through issues that were never registered by Stefan has become her only true job that contributed to Moreise.

Rumours of war, environmental problems, foreign affairs.

She dismissed the rumours, offered suggestions for the environmental issues, and accepted or declined invitations for dinner, all under Stefan's name.

Many hours were spent working, and she wore it greatly, with dark circles under her eyes that she'd earned throughout the years.

She rubbed her eyes. For the past sixteen years she hasn't had a good night's sleep, and instead had restless evenings with the tragedies of her own life. Her marriage with her dead sister's husband, empty threats, and other malicious deeds that filled her life with joy…

Oh, she was tired. And she took time to admire her colorful ring that she had once wore on her finger, sparkling with the natural colors of the four seasons; golden for the summer sun, auburn for the changing leaves of autumn, a steel blue for the cool winter, and a jade for the blooming spring. It was quite the touching gift, and it had a twin that never came out of the box, though that one was slightly larger. They were her parents wedding rings.

Though they were both dead before Mallory could even recognize their faces.

And Leila always wore the larger one with a chain.

And when she wore it she would sing and speak like...What? Leila's voice always carried this tune that sounded like, like what?

There was a pang in her heart. It was terrible, really. When you realize you forgot the sound of your sister's voice. Only memories could barely restore this.

And she remembered a memory that was so far away.

She remembered herself, sitting by a window, bitterly watching the rain fall, wrapped in a blanket that fell depressingly on her shoulders.  
The memories brought her back, when she was younger, and all the wounds were still new, her leg practically detached from control.  
She remembered Leila coming in, in a lovely pale suit the color of an eggshell, glowing skin and eyes.  
Leila knocked of course, before allowing herself an entrance. Her smile was soft and offered the motherly care that no one else could have given.  
Then it came. "Oh Mallory! Have you seen Flora and Fauna? They are supposed to come with me!" Her voice was frustrated. But her voice was wonderful and clear. One could tell when she was worried. She was pure. She spoke with such serenity, it felt like silver.  
Mallory had only given a second's glance. "Where are you going?" She had still stared out. In those days she was always lost in the blank scenery.  
"Ganancia" Leila then responded. She had been adjusting pearls with the mirror as her guide.  
This feeling had become engraved into Mallory's stomach. Her eyes were horrified and her mouth had opened only to say nothing. "Ganancia?" She'd repeated. ""Why are you going there?"

"I'm to meet with their council. They're introducing me to a new duke the King Henry had appointed. They believe he will be a great influence on our two nations." Leila had said it all so quickly, with hopes rising high. She'd been so dearly hopeful that there'd be peace.

In contrast, Mallory shook her head, dismissed the excuse. "Leila, you can't go."

Her older sister's eyebrows furrowed. "And why not?"

"They could hurt you, much like they did with…"...with me. "I can't let you go, they are our biggest threats, remember mother and father?"

Leila looked onto the ground. They couldn't remember them. "Times have changed. There hasn't been an attack, no wars, no...folly." Leila failed to say more.

"So now they're allies?"

"Well, no, not yet at least. That's why this meeting is important. We could potentially change for the better."

But she had shook her head, with a voice crying in her head. "She can't go!" It would hiss.

"Leila, please listen to me. Ganancia is a terrible place, filled with terrible people." She couldn't let her sister leave.

"Mallory you're being irrational!" Her sister moved to sit by her. "I will be alright, this decision will protect us, and our country." she squeezed her hand.

Mallory didn't say anything, and Leila had left her behind in that cold room.

Leila couldn't be more wrong in her decision.

So instead of crying, Mallory picked up her walking stick and limped to the mountains.

Now at 36, she still limped on occasion, only when her husband dared to punish her, and instead of the mountains or a forest to escape to, she now had a small city in New York.

She tucked her leg foot behind the right one, as uncomfortable as it was. Her left foot was ugly and bruised, probably broken in all places. It's been months since Stefan last hurt it. He always targeted that foot, but it was healing.

She was healing.

Of course at the time, she was barely recovering from another attack.

But she was getting better, instead scars and bruises that stained her skin were shattered all over her body like glass.

They covered her like a forest of thorns. Hideous as she was. How she believed she was.

How long has it been since she took a step by herself? When was the last time she walked without support?

Her left foot twitched, and the tip of her shoe touched the ground, and she knew.

She had to take a step.

It was an attractive idea for a moment, she wanted to taste the grass on her feet and dance like she was on clouds. It was very uncharacteristic, but perfect all the same.

So she climbed out of that leather chair, and trembled, like that small child she was, vibrant and wicked, she hung on to what she could, the back of her seat, the vases of plants that adorned her workspace.

Her foot shivered as she stepped out of the flats that she clung onto for comfort.

Her right foot touched the ground first, and she felt the instant cold on her heels. She was relieved. The left foot followed the right and shook, as Mallory exhaled trying to endure through the pain as best she could. She became steady, balanced.

She became a toddler learning how to walk.

Three steps followed in that clumsy pattern, she only had walked but three steps, before falling back on her desk as someone knocked on the door.

She could have fell from embarrassment, how foolish she'd look trying to walk, but no one had seen her. She was safe. Reversing her steps, she'd made it back to her chair in a frantic panic, as her feet fell back into the chair, and her hand caught her walking stick. "You may enter" She called, hiding any evidence of her experiment.

It was Diaval of course, who instantly lost in his voice when his words tried stringing together in a sentence. "You wanted to see me, Mistress?" He asked instead.

Mallory nodded, recalling in her head she'd made an appointment to speak with him privately for a few minutes. "Yes, I remember I had asked for you. Come." He followed the finger she'd offered, and closed the door behind him, sitting down on a free chair.

She pulled a vase from the bookshelf, and placed it in between them. The red rose from days earlier was in it, healthy and alive, still vivid in color, an indication that it was taken care of greatly.

His eyes narrowed, as he leaned forward in his chair. His smokey eyes wandered over her, curious as to what she would say.

"A few days ago I have received this gift from you attached with a letter." She watered down.

Diaval listened with full interest, but his eyes flickered in such a rapid motion. From Mallory to the bright bloom. Was he going to receive a thank you?

Her fists were balled tightly, and her eyes stared blankly. There was a storm that fought within her, hissing at her that it was alright. Not a big deal. But to her it was. It was a gift not from Stefan, but from a servant who had nothing to gain, where it was unclear of his intentions. But he was just a servant. "And although I do admit I was fond of the sentiment, it was highly inappropriate." Her voice was pinched, certain of her choice for words.

Diaval's face fell. "What?"

"You were overstepping boundaries."

"H-How? It was a flower not a declaration of lov-"

"Quiet!" she hissed.

He took a moment to realize he was out of line. But he soon found his voice. "May I have permission to speak?"

Mallory took a breath, shaking her head. "No you may not. What you did was out of line. Including your actions now." she tried to refrain from saying more through her tight-lipped voice.

Diaval struggled with an argument, though he did admit that she was right. She moved on to the papers on desk, doing what she does best: avoiding the situation.

He sighed, Mallory noticed with his breathe dropping heavily. He scratched at his neck and aimed towards the door, walking away with surrender.

Then he paused. Three seconds at least. And for those three seconds, she paused as well.

"May I ask you a question?" He then asked, and Mallory was brought back to the world.

She raised an eyebrow. "I said you weren't allowed to speak." She swore.

He looked down at his feet, then to her. But he really looked into her gaze. "Just one question." He pleaded, and she wondered how long he must have asked for this.

"Fine, one question and that will be all." she replied despite how many boundaries he broke.

He stuttered, but with more confidence. And with a deep breath he asked "Why do you hate everything?"

She blinked, fluttering her eyes several times until she understood. "What?"

"Well you know," he dug his hands into his pockets. "you hate gifts, you hate flowers, you hate kindness in general… "

"I presume I hate Aurora as well?" She'd tilted her head.

Diaval shook his head, "you don't hate Aurora, you hate Stefan."

Suddenly he blushed, turning away from his comment.

He didn't apologize for his words, nor did he need to. The unbalanced relationship between the Queen and her husband was something that had to be kept quiet. Years of screaming behind cameras that captured every moment spent as a fairy tale. Arguments were light bickering, and everything was in Stefan's control.

"You don't hate Aurora, you hate Stefan" rang in her head. She hated Stefan. For what he's turned her into. For blocking her path in happiness. For cutting her childhood short the moment he took her as a woman.

"Yes"

Diaval's flushing face came to see her, and Mallory struggled with her weight.

"Huh?"

"Yes. Now I answered your question, you're dismissed."

* * *

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

"Tell me all the things you wanna do" Auroral sang in a whisper as Lana Del Rey's voice haunted her through her white headphones.

She leaned over the table, trying to fall back on her biology homework, but the rhythm of the music was still caught in her mind.

7:59 and she could see the silhouettes of the forest of trees in her backyard, all the details were faded together, and you couldn't see the footsteps of a tiny girl who used to play hide and seek near the woods with the imaginary. Forgotten was the giggles from chasing butterflies, and the humming along a stream, humming away from the world.

The forest was decaying in innocence of a childhood spent living a lie.

Earlier when she returned home, she dropped her camera. She had kneeled to gather it, and her gown had become stained with mud as she retrieved it from the ground. And then she felt at home, feeling the grass on her fingers, and dirt underneath her nails.

Sure, she'd walked down the trails that only she knew from time to time, but it's been awhile since she bounced through the forest leaving a trail of her footprints that carried joy.

Now, it was broken. It was all branches, no leaves to whisper through the wind, and no kid to bounce while singing her heart out.

Well that took care of something, and she scribbled notes on the components of trees.

The song was over by the time she had picked up her pencil again. Her hair had been twisted into a messy bun, and she wore a white tank top as a pajama, lazily drifting away, her head was in the clouds, while her feet remained on earth.

Her aunties were off in arguments of how to follow through simple recipes while auntie Fauna read a magazine article in delight, away from all the fuss.

8:07. Nowhere near finished with her work, but it was process. Dinner wouldn't be ready for a while, but it was okay. She would drift away again.

Pulling on her headphones, the next song played, and already she recognized the lyrics.

Feet don't fail me now

"Take me to the finish line" Aurora finished, a small smile on her lips as she tapped her pencil against her paper instead of actually doing it.

She was surrounded by her aunties' cries and giggles, and in their tiny kitchen, she felt a warmth that reassured her. A room that took her away from the stress.

She had a nice view of her backyard. The grass was a bit overgrown, and the stream always sounded stiff at this time of year, but she was at home.

* * *

**Dear Diary,**

**Am I happy? What is happiness to others? I mean, even though the sun shines, the sky still cries. And that's just part of life. Maybe as humans, we aren't meant to be happy, we're just... existing. My auntie Mallory doesn't smile, but she holds the weight of a country on her shoulders.**

**Diaval, he definitely smiles, despite working without appreciation.**

**I am happy. I have my family, the closest I will ever be to my mother. And I'm a princess like a fairytale, and I may have had that lifetime pass, but I've lived the one I've been raised in, and I've known where my home and heart belong.**

**I don't know what that could mean for me, but I won't miss the shot I have.**

* * *

"She's going to have a dinner."

One. Two. Three.

"She's inviting all those musical diplomats to keep that crown on her head."

Four. Five. Six.

"She's only ever had contact with the prime minister in the past two weeks."

Seven. Eight. Nine.

"And she's planning on staying until March."

Ten.

Stefan felt his muscles tense, as Jafar's statements grew in vain. His brows knitted together, and all he could think was Mallory.

Mallory.

_Mallory wasn't it enough when I sent you the flowers, only for you to refuse them, as if expecting me to build you a palace from my words?_

_You don't acknowledge my apologies, that or my responsibilities, so why should I even try?_

"March" Stefan echoed, and he felt an aching pain of the weight he beared on his hands.

I've whispered my love, to the point you engrossed my thoughts. We meet each other in my dreams too much, so much, they're becoming memories.

"Sixteen years, it will add to our country's history." Jafar added without much to say.

_And as death becomes the symphony that's overplayed to this nation's anthem_

The tall Arabian man took a glass of wine, and Stefan reached for the bottle of the alcohol that was worth more than his childhood without a real childhood.

_Will you continue to discriminate with laughter, as I cry over the graves of both my wife and my daughter?_

"May they rest in peace" Stefan added in a drunken state, toasting to himself.

He looked over his desk that was cleared of any evidence. His pictures were hidden, and his youth filled with the thrilling violence were cast aside.

_We were going to name her Aurora. Our daughter was going to be named Aurora. And she died in birth. You stood by with your threatening words, and allowed them to die._

"It's not very clever to be toying with the documents, sir" Jafar warned with distaste.

But Stefan reached for the dagger hidden underneath the surface, the sharp object with the peeling brown, dry blood.

_How well do remember, Mallory? As we raised our glasses to your name, you, with all the venom laced in your drink, as we kissed atop a hill?_

The dagger holds the end of one life. Mallory's life. The life King Henry begged him to take. Sixteen years of existence.

_Why do you hide like the Earth owes you more time?_

_While you celebrated sixteen birthdays, I've mourned sixteen years of loss._

_You've been blessed with the best life, and that's why you deserve everything._

"We don't want to leave anymore fingerprints on the objects, do we sir" Jafar tried.

_You deserve every punch, every hit, and every bruise that comes to you because you've been born into this life by chance. But you stayed by choice._

Stefan stopped his conversation, gazing into the dagger that once successfully scraped the back of a princess while she laid sleeping under the stars.

Everything was covered in his fingerprints, everything he touched became unholy.

You deserve everything.

He dropped the weapon into the drawer, dropped her soul, as it sunk in too deep, buried.

"She's in the U.S.?"

"Yes, sir." Barely a few hours ahead in flight.

"Does King Henry already have an invitation for the dinner?"

"I don't believe any have been sent out yet." More time to prepare.

"And the dinner."

"The consulate, in New York."

New York. "New York City?" He grinded his teeth, facing away, and all he could do is deny. He resented her name, her being. Her nonstop sense of work, and her soul. Her complaints as she cries with her glistening eyes.

Green. The color of her eyes is green. Every painting, every book, every accent turned into that damn color. He hated green. The particular shade of emerald tore him, pierced his own soul, of course, green. Green, her eyes were green, she walked on green grass through the trees that were growing leaves in that palette.

"New York City, is there anywhere else?"

And she walks through those streets, hoping to be discreet about her presence. He could feel her every emotion. And it was hurting him, why was it hurting him?

And Jafar was leaning back, too comfortable, as if he deserved a place by the king. "Manhattan is a troubled place you know, too loud at night, and the people are just terribly rude. No wonder your wife finds solice in those type of places." But Stefan didn't hear him. He still hears her sobbing, a broken cry that cracked through her voice. He still sees the dagger in his hand, he feels the phantom shaking of his hand.

Why was she doing this to him?

Was this a punishment hell sent for trying to make something of his life?

Why?

Damn her, and damn her selfish needs. Why did she stay if her life was torture? Why did she marry him? Why?

Why?

Why?

_Stop invading my thoughts! Just stop! Wasn't your life enough? Wasn't my pain enough? Aren't I enough?_

"Sir, you look pale." Jafar said, and color returned to Stefan's face. The advisor motioned for some water, but Stefan held up his hand.

He didn't drink too much. He doesn't have a problem. There's no problem.

_Why do you destroy me like this? Do you feel better about yourself? Are you laughing in those street corners by yourself? Are you laughing at your king?_

"Mallory. Why is she in New York?

"Besides the dinner, I can't phantom why. She's escaped."

_You're mad. You're the one who's lost all wits, disguising your true colors. You're a monster._

_You left your kingdom, your husband, and your sister's grave, and you deserve everything._

_This is why you deserve to suffer._

* * *

**Alright guys so here it was, I hope you're definitely tied to somewhat some parts of the story, I definitely expierimnted a lot on this chapter, I really enjoyed writing it for you guys, and for myself. Hopefully the story is going to be picked up with the main plot now.**

**I'm really thankful for all the support I receive, all the readers who read, and more, I appreciate it.**

**I'm apologizing once again for the lengthy wait, I'm actually quite proud that it wasn't as long as the last one, and I hope I didn't torture anyone too much.**

**But I'll see you all next time!㈴1**


	12. Chapter 12- Sense and Sensibility

**Yay the first time I've completed a chapter in less than two weeks. **

**Just wanted to mention I don't really own anything. Nope just me myself and my writing.**

**I especially don't own the film, or Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, or any of the classic novels I'll be mentioning from now on.**

**This is going to start launching ourselves for the main focus of the story.**

* * *

Until She's Crowned

Chapter 12- Sense and Sensibility

**Tuesday February 4, 2014**

In the world of thespians are children who always dream of stars. They dream of being under the limelight, and having the whole world as an audience. And their special technique? Confidence.

So what should have Aurora, small shy Aurora, expected when she walked into her sixth period, her being against the crowd of lions who all echoed one after the other their roles, some happy, and some less than so. She had to wait patiently, her hands folded against her ash skirt, and hair pulled into a gentle ponytail.

As Aurora reached the cast list, it felt difficult to search for her name. Aurora Rose. Aurora Rose. Aurora Rose.

Where was it? It was noted Vanessa won over Juliet no doubt. She was perfect. She was confident. She looked further down and saw Alice had successfully made it as part of the backstage crew, but Aurora wasn't anywhere near that group either.

She had to raise her eyes up the slightest to find where she belonged.

**UNDERSTUDIES**

**Terence Passer….Romeo Montague**

**Aurora Rose…..Juliet Capulet**

"Aurora I don't get to play a role!" Alice bounced cheerfully, and the named girl understood why, oddly. Alice was forced into the drama class by her uptight mother who's trying to get Alice more interested in other arts besides writing for the newspaper. But Alice hated the theatre, because that would often mean reading without pictures.

But for Aurora was a different story. She enjoyed the theater. She liked the stories they told visually, and with the hope that she had that she would waltz onstage and end her performance with a bow was just too, too high to reach.

She took a glance at Vanessa who was proudly declaring how she was born for the role, and then to Gaston who was mimicking her notions just as loud. And then to Terence who was standing by humbly with Andy.

It was a competition for the leading roles with these actors.

"Aurora?"

"Hm?"

"You're Juliet's understudy! That's great!"

Aurora had to blink to comprehend Alice's congratulations. "How?" Her friend pulled her away from the list, and took her away from the excitement of the cast.

"Because," Alice started, with her messy hair framing her hollow face. " You can look at it this way. You were the second best for the role, and that's pretty high up if you ask me."

"Well,"

"And obviously you best fitted for the role if they didn't put you anywhere else except the backup for the lead role." Alice concluded, with her arms crossed and eyes wide.

Aurora thought silently. You mean backup for Vanessa. But she was still technically cast as the lead. She still had a chance. And she was still part of the cast.

The blonde nodded along, and finally a smile bloomed on her face. "Okay. Okay, but I'm not obviously as good as Vanessa if you couldn't tell by the arrangements."

"No, you're just as good as Vanessa, perhaps even better."

Aurora looked at her friend, and she shrugged. "Perhaps."

Now that she was looking at the main facts, it's all perfectly outlined. Her Godmother's tutoring begin at 4, and the practices only go until 3:30 after school. And her role isn't so big. She just has to memorize the lines and give a performance at Vanessa's level.

It was easy.

Soon enough the bell rang, and Diaval was waiting for her at 3:30 after the first practice meeting was given out.

"How do we do today, princess?" He asked as the princess was fastening her seatbelt. "No strange costumes I see."

The princess just nodded along a "I'm very good today Diaval, thank you for asking. I'm afraid no costume today since her highness has deemed it improper for the royal courts."

He was smiling through his coffee, she noticed through the rearview mirror. "Of course, very improper. Though not as much as referring her majesty as her highness, your highness."

Aurora felt a tinge of redness sprinkle her cheeks at her mess up. So much for a light joke. She should've known better. Diaval, definitely an ally.

"So, why the costume?" He proceeded as he was driving away from Walter Parks High School, and onto the main road. A few dark locks had fallen stray, and his tie was undone.

Aurora wanted to pretend she didn't hear him, but there would be many questions now. Why 3:30 from your school on the weekdays? And she didn't know a better answer than what she knew. "I'm in the school play." Aurora shook off.

Both had their eyes locked for a second, and his eyes brightened up in the gaze. "I always knew you were going to dance onstage one day." He spoke proudly to himself, and she wondered why.

"What production are you performing?"

"Romeo and Juliet"

Diaval didn't repeat anything from the few moments of excitement he held for her. Instead he wandered into the road.

Was it not his favorite?

"Di-"

"That's great Aurora, it's really fantastic. Uh, so what's your role?" He returned.

She was now afraid of disappointing him even more. He was just so happy for her, then everything was dropped. She started braiding a lock from her ponytail, and she recited what was on her mind when everyone else would pour their questions to her. "Well, I don't really have a role, but I'm there to fill in for Juliet's role." She explained.

"Oh, that's, that's," His eyes became transfixed on the road, almost as a means to ignore her, but he found the word that was lost from his tongue. "Wonderful." It was wonderful indeed.

He was pulled through that massive gate of thorns.

Right on time with the right clothes and a sense of greetings.

Before she went into her Godmother's office, she caught her reflection in a floor length mirror. Her olive blouse was tucked in, and she pulled at the wrinkles on her skirt. Definitely better than yesterday.

Stranger than yesterday as well, as she passed through the plain aging walls, every one person that she came across of stopped to give her a proper courtesy.

_Princess Aurora, _she had to remember. _Princess Aurora. Aurora Rose is out of the picture here. You're Princess Aurora._

"You're right on time" Her Godmother's polished face was turned away, but Aurora could hear her.

Aunt Mallory was picking at her bookshelf, looking through the covers, and the girl saw that they were all science textbooks.

When the Queen stopped, an old grandfather clock was chiming. Four O'Clock in the afternoon.

"Good afternoon, Aurora" Her grace said, but didn't fall into neither a bow or curtsy that was expected of the teenage princess.

After greetings were exchanged, Aunt Mallory studied her niece's outfit, and a smiling shimmer in her eyes bloomed.

It must've been her skirt. The grey one was always the perfect choice for professional attire.

She was led to the gardens again, tea was set as well as all the foods.

Sitting down, Aurora knew not to run away. Her Godmother's staff were all in view, standing and sitting, in sync with her movements. Her godmother stood, and everyone followed vise versa.

It was interesting to see the interaction she had with them. She was polite but demanding, she was holding power.

So was Aurora supposed to do the same? Mallory was just so terrifying and elegant, something the teen couldn't possibly live up to.

Today she was taught the brief family history of the Moore house. They had strong ties to the royal families of the west, their trading partners were Arendelle, Corona, and America. There was a war not so long ago between Moreise and another nation called Ganancia, but she didn't venture any further than that.

But there was something missing. Mallory never said anymore, not about her life, nothing about her mother, so in a way, her aunt was still a missing piece of her life.

When the hour was up, she was rushed away by a phone call that interrupted all formal goodbyes.

Diaval drove her home, and the snow started to clear away.

She walked into her house as her auntie Fauna squealed unexpectedly from a soft pastel couch they've owned for years.

"My soulmate is Leonardo DiCaprio!" She was shaking happily. Her pale locks bounced with her.

It was one of those teen magazines Aurora had stowed away as a secret vice. She had already taken that questionnaire that made your answer based on unconventional things like what's your favorite ice cream flavor? Strawberry and she got Chris Evans.

After a few tears were brushed away, Fauna asked the endless string of questions everyone else had in mind. What did you get? Are you Juliet? What's your role?

Her association with Shakespeare's plays became nothing more than answering questions. Which was fine. Everything had to be answered.

She traced her fingers through the pages of one of her Godmother's books. A classic Jane Austen no doubt would be assigned to her sooner or later in the school year.

But Aurora enjoyed the feeling of holding something so rustic in her hands. Shining a light, she saw the cover. Sense and Sensibility. She recognized the title, one of Belle's recommendations. In the dusk of night, she held her flashlight to her heart, as she read the first sentence. "The family of Dashwood had been long settled in Sussex…" And she could have fallen asleep, counting one two three. But she didn't, instead, she read until the sun was starting to lift itself up from the sky, and she fell into a heavy slumber.

So she counted the sheep.

One, two, three.

* * *

**Wednesday, February 5, 2014**

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle should be called by 'your grace' no less in my presence, Lord Milori of the Winter House should be known …"

"Lord Milori of the Winter House should be known…"

"Aurora" Aunt Mallory warned in a stern voice on the third day. Aurora felt herself drift away from the world, she felt herself losing herself to sleep, and it was just too powerful, especially after school and practice.

She just needed to sleep. Or resume to counting sheep, but she had to answer the question.

"Lord Milori should be known as…" Aurora whispered, trying to keep herself awake. As a Lord. Or grace. Nothing more.

And she closed her eyes, feeling the expensive wood slowly hit her cheek, and everything was forgotten.

"Diaval, Diaval she fell asleep!" Mallory sighed, as Aurora gave steady breaths, her hair had framed her like a honey halo.

Her Jane Austen copy was sitting beside her, and through a few gaps, pages must have already been marked.

Diaval was quick to pull the sleeping princess into her arms, "Okay, it's okay" he would reassure in a hushed voice, humming her to a further nap.

He had cradled Aurora in his arms, only something Mallory would find disgustingly cute.

She didn't want to move further, knowing she would have to plan farther than expected to get Aurora on track.

How to dine and move would have to be moved to next week, and of course everything this week had to be shifted.

She was running out of time, giving herself that sixteen year wait. The dinner was next month, the ball would be right after, and it was coming just so quick.

But Diaval wasn't worried about the ball. He had Aurora laid down on the grey loveseat.

But it was her time.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, and the circles around her eyes were hollow as the seconds passed.

The man shrugged, reaching for the teenager's bag. "She's tired, Mistress"

Tired. The girl wouldn't know tired.

He continued babbling to himself, letting the girl sleep. The book was being put away, but he didn't go any further much with her belongings.

"She must be tired these days, with school, these lessons, the school play," he murmured, but the words caught Mallory. School play.

"School play?"

"Yes, it's Romeo and Juliet."

She could almost snort. Ha! "That sappy Shakespeare tragedy?" That one production everyone would just bat their lashes while praising. "Why would she take part of that?"

Diaval ignored her offensive laughs. "Well I would say I'm quite proud of her." He was turned away like before. At the angle where she couldn't see his annoyance with her. "She was always quite the romantic anyways, it's very well suited for her."

He couldn't bring himself to mention Aurora's part in the scheme. No that would only give her more than enough things to ridicule.

"The romantic? What like the imaginary prince charming she made up in her mind at ten?"

Diaval could see the Queen rolling her eyes away, leaning on that cane of hers as she found more reasons to bash Aurora. But Aurora didn't deserve any of this. She had to rest, comfortably in her own home, away from the chaos. Away from this maddening woman who he couldn't face.

"Can you help me?"

Not a thing you would ask a Queen, your boss no less. But to a friend? Yes, in a few circumstances, they were friendly.

But not how Mallory saw it. They were friendly in terms of just acquaintances. That's where she wanted it to stop. Where it should.

At first, she had her eyebrows raised at Diaval, and she was warning him, herself. Inappropriate! But she knew he wanted to take that girl, that sleeping beauty to her little cottage in the woods. But she was only disturbing on the cushions, so she had to agree. Not for Diaval. No for her loveseat to be cleared.

Given, she couldn't actually do anything. Aurora was a terribly deep sleeper, so she wasn't going to wake up to move herself, Mallory would be breaking bones with pressured weight.

Diaval was carrying the princess away, Mallory was the leader, and her staff were standing still until she passed, no questions were allowed to be asked.

It was different that day for her. Never before had she opened the door for someone else. Never before have she waited on others to get comfortable. Yet Aurora was napping alongside her in the car, unknown to her, she just changed Mallory's heart by the tiniest bit.

It was so alien to to the work everyone else has done for her, even if it was small.

And seeing Aurora sleep so calmly when there were so many things going on in the world around her, made the tired Queen wonder. And she felt threatened by the new feelings she was getting.

There wasn't time for wonder. Not when she was running out of time.

Diaval reached that familiar house, the small one at the end of the road, tucked away from everything. The snow was clearing away now, she noticed.

The silhouette of the many trees painted a pretty picture of her own home. Not the castle, but the forest besides it, and all the trees that line the mountains.

Diaval's long coat moved just slightly with the wind, making him look dark, compared to the pastels Aurora was wearing.

"I think we should go the other way." Which translated to "I'd rather not see those three fools" or at least it did to Mallory when she voiced her thoughts.

Diaval almost stumbled at how earnest she sounded, but she played the leader again, leaving slight trails of her cane when she moved around the house.

Diaval felt he should have said "That will look suspicious," or "I'd rather not" but he didn't. According to her, that would be stepping out of line.

She examined the windows, and could tell that those three were off into their own worlds, Flora was in the kitchen, Fauna was nowhere in sight however, but the distant shouts said more than enough.

"We could always knock on the door like normal civilians." Diaval suggested.

"Mute!" She warned. "And since when are we normal civilians?" No just a Queen and her assistant trying to break into a house.

The backdoor was easily opened, and the warm house had probably dropped a few temperatures due to the still icy wind gusts.

Both had a sense of the navigation around the home, but Flora turned away from them made it easier. Mallory was pressed against the wall, lifting her cane to her chest to avoid a clatter, and Diaval had Aurora hanging on to him.

The Queen moved amongst the wall, feeling only the slightest pain, but they eventually turned to the next corner.

The loud shouts were more defined inside.

There was paint splatters covering the floor, and into further examination, they left a trail.

Standing in the living room were Fauna and Mary, a gameboard flipped over, as they screamed over the cheaters of the match. Nothing new in particular that Mallory hasn't seen before, but it was still enjoyable. Up the stairs, she knew was Aurora's room. She knew it by heart, knowing that their was a canopy decorated with wildflowers and old treasures, having stepped inside in a similar manner before.

Too dedicated to the argument, Mallory understood that it would be perfect for her to move upstairs and finally leave for her temporary home, but she saw a cat.

She didn't recall Aurora having a cat, but whatever it's purpose, it saw Mallory too.

It moved towards her, and it was fast. Diaval saw that cat as well, and it didn't look happy.

Cats are always so evil. But maybe that's why Mallory liked them. Diaval she didn't know, but he didn't particularly like dogs either. She reached for the wooden ramp, and tried pulling herself up, but the cat wouldn't let her have it. Instead it was ready to pounce, almost giving the most adorable growls she's ever heard from a creature.

Mallory practicality hopped upstairs with her dragged leg, and she knew her regular doctor wouldn't let her live it down. Diaval slow in the process, so she found Aurora's room first. It has obviously changed. There were pictures everywhere of everything, flowers, trees, people. Yet they were organized in lines of string, and everything was certainly more mature. Her bed was made with a violet comforter, and the canopy still hung around it by wildflowers.

The cat was at Diaval's feet, the poor man. Maybe that's why a smirk appeared on her face. It was almost reaching for something, it's paws all over his pants.

He settled her on her bed, and she sunk in.

He removed her bag, and left it by her bed, and a small clutter was made, and a camera fell.

The cat, Beauty written on her collar, joined Aurora in bed, napping by her halo of hair.

Mallory unconsciously picked up the camera. A nice pink shade, and looked heavy with memory. She wasn't exactly an expert, but she knew someone who was. Deciding to leave it alone, she placed it back in the bag.

Stepping back, she saw how comfortable Aurora was, sleeping. With her eyes closed, in everything in a peaceful silence, she admired Aurora for having something that Mallory didn't.

Wonder.

"Goodnight Beastie." The Queen whispered as Diaval was by the door, doing all he could do. He stood by the door and smiled.

Now they have to get out.

* * *

**Thursday February 6, 2014**

**Dear Diary,**

**Yesterday, I wound up asleep, and then I woke up in my bed, then I started freaking out. But it was like so fascinating at the same time because what if I had teleportation powers.**

**But I decided it was just Diaval being nice. I wonder how Aunt Mallory took it though. I feel awful for just sleeping.**

**My godmother is so mysterious to me. She never openly talks, and I feel like she's hiding something from me. Anyways, I've realized how awake she is. Her life seems like it's run by a clock that strikes in March. She's been teaching me all the names and titles of all the other dignitaries, she's already mentioned plans for next week and it's just so confusing.**

**And I hope I find out more, not just the basic facts you uncover in a textbook.**

**I should be heading to school soon.**

**Until then, **

**Aurora Rose**

2:57

During rehearsal, Aurora had already caught herself taking in the new novel, Jane Eyre. Everything seemed too difficult to understand, but yet every letter was translated into the perfect language for her.

Alice caught her too, but brushed it off, mentioning how Belle had finally roped her into her suggestions.

As Vanessa was acting as the perfect vixen, Aurora mimicked the choreography, the stage directions, all while holding on to those novels.

4:00

At her godmother's lessons, she took off where they were yesterday.

"Lord Milori of the Winter House should also be known as your grace or simply Lord." Aurora promised to commit it to heart.

Her godmother smiled so softly that one could miss it. The most mischievous, thrilling grin she'd received.

"Good, now, we must get through today's teaching. After yesterday's accident, I hope you won't pick up at that habit." Aurora wanted to say that was an attempt of a light joke, but sadly, with her, it wasn't.

"What do you know about public speaking?" And Aurora felt a shiver. Not her area of expertise, but she knew it couldn't be much harder than reciting a few lines on stage.

* * *

**Friday February 7, 2014**

3:01

Jane Eyre was great as the last one, and Aurora kept skimming through the pages carefully as they were stuck in the middle of Act 1.

"It is an honor that I dream not of." She could almost mouth, as Vanessa tried to recite the scene from memory. She flipped to the next page in her book.

Deep inside her mind, her mind wandered to her Godmother's lessons. She had given brief instructions on how to present before a crowd ( Be prepared, Project your confidence, Practice).

Performing without trembling was easy for her. Well, it was if everyone else was turned around, and she was denied the embarrassment of messing up or tripping. But there was that thrill that just made her stand in wonder. Wonder, she's always liked that word. It was such an enchanting phrase, one that could help long for such things as answers or true love.

As Aurora fell more distracted, drifting again, she hadn't realized she skipped over several paragraphs in her novel, but the eternity that was rehearsals.

They've already moved through the scene and onto the next, which disappointed Aurora. She wasn't planning on falling behind.

4:00

Her Godmother was standing by the door, her hands delicately wrapped around the her cane's handle. She had been waiting, for her niece most likely. She looked over Aurora's outfit of jeans and turtleneck, before silently letting her into her office.

In the pretend school Aunt Mallory had set up, she was the strict only means business type of teacher.

Her presentation skills had to be run over a few times until it reached approval (she had to be louder). Aurora noticed how these lessons were overlapping, and how her godmother would check look over the grandfather clock, reading the time over and over.

She felt at fault.

"Did you finish any of the books?" Mallory asked, struggling between a demand and an inquiry in her voice.

"I've read the Sense and Sensibility one," Aurora offered. The first book checked off had certainly kept her up. "I liked it. The characters were intriguing." She was slowing down her words, searching for the words to say.

"Yes, but what did you learn?" Now this was a demand.

Aurora payed attention. _What did you learn? _The Sense and the Sensibility in the story were idolized in the characters. "I'm the sensibility." Aurora said without thinking much.

Mallory paused. Nothing possibly about the themes or the lessons they could teach, what the sisters in the novel could teach. "The sensibility?" She challenged.

Aurora paused, not understanding how she could clarify. She's only identified so much with Marianne, the one who was so inclined to believe by her heart. "You know ," she dragged along. "Sensibility is just so pulled by attitude and emotion, it's about being sensitive." It's about the heart.

The Queen considered this. When she was younger, she'd convinced herself she was Marianne, but the role later became passed over to Leila. But she hadn't meant to discuss the characteristics, rather than the changes.

"Meanwhile, you could possibly be the sense."

"In what ways?"

"You just have so much realistic awareness about the world, that you only concentrate on work." Aurora tried lamely. "Or you just concentrate on the time."

Mallory was locked on her, with curiosity. That wonder. She was radiating it, she imagined a vibrant glow around her. And she was the sense. Perhaps. Was it her judgement or welfare? No, she was more entitled to the clock.

But having sense shouldn't mean sneaking into a house to avoid seeing people, No, that was the last time it would happen.

She listened to Aurora's words, as she discussed about her opinions so openly, Mallory almost regretted giving the girl a voice. But the more she listened to her speech, Mallory found herself proud.

Aurora spoke and spoke and spoke.

There was something in Mallory that wanted her to say something. Anything about her experiences with the story, Leila's, how they've both been victimized by the character.

How should would wait in a field of wildflowers, and just do that-wait, not caring for her time wasted.

But she just listened. That's the best thing she could do for that while, as she tried to settle her thoughts, tried weaving her logic to make sense again.

A glance at the clock, and she focused.

They've run out of time.

* * *

**I tried to keep the common theme of wonder and time in this chapter. I also wanted to write a sillier scene with Diaval and Mal putting Aurora to bed, all while trying to not get caught. I hope I've amused you. And of course being protective of Aurora.**

**I've figured time would be best for Mal to struggle with, seeing how she's literally racing against it, trying to reach Aurora, as well as patiently waiting the curse out in the hopes of seeing Stefan broken in the movie.**

**Anyways thanks for your time, as always, you're not forced to review, but it's gladly appreciated.**

**Just thank you for everything.**


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